‹ Prequel: Little Shit
Snow Angel
1/1
"Do you ever wonder how many people have prayed for you to be a better person?"
It was the coldest it had been all winter, everyone was bundled up and sitting inside by their fires to try and keep warm. There were the very few that weren't so lucky to have a heater, or a home for that matter. Shivering and desperately clinging on her hoodie was Theresa. Her long thin legs were tucked into her hoodie, you could see every breath the teenager made. She looked over at the old man next to her, he seemed unaware of the snowflakes that fell softly onto the ground and landed on his hood.
"Are you honestly asking that?" Theresa asked, doing her best not to make a smart ass remark. Irving was the only friend she'd made since she left home, he was a father figure to her, or at least what she assumed a father to be like. He could feel her steel blue eyes on him but he didn't turn to look at her.
He could have passed for her grandfather easily, he had her steel blue eyes and long, bony frame. He hovered over her by a good six inches which was saying something since Theresa was 5'10" easily.
Of course she had thought about it. She watched every day when people would walk by her with looks of distaste, they all assumed she was some piece of shit kid that never knew pain and just wanted attention. Those who did know her would know about her drug addiction and the self mutilation, no one knew why she left home though. "Sometimes," she mumbled. "What about you?"
Pat was still gazing at the wall across from them, normally he would have had his dog with him, a six year old pit bull mix, but he'd been picked up by the pound about a week ago. He remained silent for quite some time so Theresa figured he wasn't going to answer her question. Goosebumps rose on her skin when a breeze swept past them, a few snowflakes landed softly on her face and long lashes. She tried to wipe them away, it was freezing and she didn't want to freeze anymore then what she was.
"I heard that your mom was looking for you," Pat said absentmindedly.
The words went through one ear and out the other, she tried her best not to think of her at all lately. She tried to focus her thoughts on the question instead but images of her mother kept popping into head. A tear slid down her face and she quickly wiped it away. "What the fuck does that cunt want? I think she made it clear enough she doesn't want me around," she mumbled bitterly.
Her heart was aching as memories of her mother screaming at her flooded her mind. She shivered and held her knees closer to her chest. Pat looked over at her from the corner of his eye, instinctively he went to pet his dog Archer, when he was met with empty air he glanced down and frowned softly. "I dunno, think she wants you to go home." He looked back at her and rested his bony hand on her shoulder comfortingly. She flinched and scooted away from Pat, she didn't want to offend him, but the feel of a man's hand on her body was like feeling bugs crawling on her skin. More images flashed through her mind and she quickly stood up.
"I-I'm sorry, Pat," she croaked. "I need to go."
His brows furrowed, with a little more strain he stood up and dusted his gloved hands on his jeans. "Are you sure? You know I don't mind sharing the alley with you."
A lump the size of her fist was settled in Theresa's throat. It wasn't Pat's fault, it wasn't her mom's, God's, it was those men. They did this to her. "Maybe later. I just- I.. I'll see you later."
Snow fell softly onto her beanie and hoodie, she smiled sadly at him and rushed off, she ran as fast as her long legs would take her. Her lungs were burning, like someone set them on fire. Tears prickled at her eyes and blurred her vision, all she knew was that she need to get out of that area, away from from people.
One person was going to pray for Theresa that night, they were going to pray for her to get better not because they thought that she needed to let Jesus guide her, or that a kid that young couldn't feel pain, but because he cared and hoped for the best for her. Chances are he wasn't going to see Theresa again. Not anytime soon. He sighed wistfully and sat back down on the ground, his breathing was soft and relaxed, little clouds of air left his mouth with every breath.
God, Allah, whoever is there. Give the kid a break. Amen.
It was the coldest it had been all winter, everyone was bundled up and sitting inside by their fires to try and keep warm. There were the very few that weren't so lucky to have a heater, or a home for that matter. Shivering and desperately clinging on her hoodie was Theresa. Her long thin legs were tucked into her hoodie, you could see every breath the teenager made. She looked over at the old man next to her, he seemed unaware of the snowflakes that fell softly onto the ground and landed on his hood.
"Are you honestly asking that?" Theresa asked, doing her best not to make a smart ass remark. Irving was the only friend she'd made since she left home, he was a father figure to her, or at least what she assumed a father to be like. He could feel her steel blue eyes on him but he didn't turn to look at her.
He could have passed for her grandfather easily, he had her steel blue eyes and long, bony frame. He hovered over her by a good six inches which was saying something since Theresa was 5'10" easily.
Of course she had thought about it. She watched every day when people would walk by her with looks of distaste, they all assumed she was some piece of shit kid that never knew pain and just wanted attention. Those who did know her would know about her drug addiction and the self mutilation, no one knew why she left home though. "Sometimes," she mumbled. "What about you?"
Pat was still gazing at the wall across from them, normally he would have had his dog with him, a six year old pit bull mix, but he'd been picked up by the pound about a week ago. He remained silent for quite some time so Theresa figured he wasn't going to answer her question. Goosebumps rose on her skin when a breeze swept past them, a few snowflakes landed softly on her face and long lashes. She tried to wipe them away, it was freezing and she didn't want to freeze anymore then what she was.
"I heard that your mom was looking for you," Pat said absentmindedly.
The words went through one ear and out the other, she tried her best not to think of her at all lately. She tried to focus her thoughts on the question instead but images of her mother kept popping into head. A tear slid down her face and she quickly wiped it away. "What the fuck does that cunt want? I think she made it clear enough she doesn't want me around," she mumbled bitterly.
Her heart was aching as memories of her mother screaming at her flooded her mind. She shivered and held her knees closer to her chest. Pat looked over at her from the corner of his eye, instinctively he went to pet his dog Archer, when he was met with empty air he glanced down and frowned softly. "I dunno, think she wants you to go home." He looked back at her and rested his bony hand on her shoulder comfortingly. She flinched and scooted away from Pat, she didn't want to offend him, but the feel of a man's hand on her body was like feeling bugs crawling on her skin. More images flashed through her mind and she quickly stood up.
"I-I'm sorry, Pat," she croaked. "I need to go."
His brows furrowed, with a little more strain he stood up and dusted his gloved hands on his jeans. "Are you sure? You know I don't mind sharing the alley with you."
A lump the size of her fist was settled in Theresa's throat. It wasn't Pat's fault, it wasn't her mom's, God's, it was those men. They did this to her. "Maybe later. I just- I.. I'll see you later."
Snow fell softly onto her beanie and hoodie, she smiled sadly at him and rushed off, she ran as fast as her long legs would take her. Her lungs were burning, like someone set them on fire. Tears prickled at her eyes and blurred her vision, all she knew was that she need to get out of that area, away from from people.
One person was going to pray for Theresa that night, they were going to pray for her to get better not because they thought that she needed to let Jesus guide her, or that a kid that young couldn't feel pain, but because he cared and hoped for the best for her. Chances are he wasn't going to see Theresa again. Not anytime soon. He sighed wistfully and sat back down on the ground, his breathing was soft and relaxed, little clouds of air left his mouth with every breath.
God, Allah, whoever is there. Give the kid a break. Amen.