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The snow was falling outside her window as Tamara threw herself onto her bed. She had a long day at school and the sunlight being gone by 5pm wasn’t necessarily helping her lacking motivation. She had been drained this whole winter already. Though she couldn’t quite pinpoint why.
With a huff, she rested her head on her arms and looked outside onto the skyline of LA, dots of lights sprinkled all over. Not too long ago, this sight made her blood boil. Made her yearn for just a slice of life… it was her first Christmas with a stable roof over her head. Her first Christmas at Lucy’s.
Today, she remembered it more than usual. How she was tugged into her blanket, sitting around a dumpster fire with people who were just as unlucky as her. How she prayed for her books not to get damp. How she hoped for a warm meal whenever the temperature started dropping. What she made herself do for said meals-
How many kids weren’t as lucky as her.
Tamara clenched her teeth. It wasn’t that long ago and yet the reflection of the girl looking back at her from the window looked like someone who has lived another life time. Sometimes she was scared that she’d wake up and all of this would turn out to be a desperate dream. Even if deep down she knew she wouldn’t. But it felt so strange to allow herself to feel… at peace.
Not too long ago, she hated Christmas. Felt jealous of all the familiarity and tenderness in the air- but now that was her life. Familiar and tender. Only because she had decided to steal a cop’s car. How ironic.
There was a turmoil forming in Tamara’s chest at the thoughts in her head but instead of pushing it down like normally, she let it simmer; allowed herself to feel what she felt. Fear, confusion… gratitude. In the end, she owed most of this to Lucy. Lucy who decided not to arrest her, even though she very easily could’ve done so, Lucy who kept supporting her even after Tamara acted like a child, Lucy who offered her a roof over her head.
A sense of safety.
A home.
She could never make up for that if she wanted to, but she’d try. Always.
After one last lingering look, Tamara turned to the clock over her door. It was Lucy’s ‘short’ work day, so she’d be home in two hours. Enough time to make milkshakes and order pizza, she decided, as she swung out of bed.
Tamara could never make up for what Lucy had given her. But she’d always be grateful. Forever.