Chapter Text
GEMMA (contuition)
Three Years Ago ~
I crouch down next to a small kid. She looked terrified of me, and I wondered what horrors she had to endure to be flinching away from people like that.
I back away a little, making sure that she was comfortable with my presence before talking again. “Sweetie, what’s your name?” I ask.
The girl shakes her head again, backing away.
I wait again before talking. “I’m going to get up, okay?” I say, slowly rising. I extend a hand to the girl and summoned my best smile.
“I’m Gemma. Who are you?”
The girl finally looked up at me.
“Aeoli.”
I managed to get her talking- don’t ask me how I did it- after a bit of gentle coaxing.
“So you're saying that you ran away from an orphanage?” I ask again, a bit skeptical. Now that I got a better look at her, I was doubtful that she had been on the streets for that long. She was wearing a white wig, and her hair was tied up into fluffy braids.
Said hair was coated with a layer of grime before I washed it off. We were sitting on my bed in my apartment.
I had to strike a deal with a really shady guy to use this space. But hey, a house was a house. If you could call it that.
It was more like a pod, with walls so close together I could barely jam a bed between them. Needless to say, I managed.
Aeoli had showered and was dressed in my way too big clothes. She looked more ethereal than human, now that I thought about it. Like a floating cloud.
“How old are you?” I asked. She shrugged. “I don’t know. Thirteen, fourteen?” she had grown more confident after I showed her I was trustworthy. She still looked a bit wary, but was more relaxed.
“I was placed into an orphanage at ten and bounced around for a bit. Because of the bullying, you know.” she added. She touched her hair self-consciously.
“It’s really pretty.” I say, reaching out to touch it. She flinched, inching away from me. I retracted my hand. Okay. So she didn’t really trust me that much. I tried not to take offense.
Of course she wouldn’t trust me! No one would trust a random stranger on the streets.
Not her, anyways. She looked smart for a thirteen year old. She looked offended. “Am I supposed to be stupid?” she asks.
I realized I said that outloud. I hurried to correct her. “Sorry. It’s just that you seem smart.” I reassured her.
“You got any food?” she asks, eyeing the bread on the desk table. I gestured towards it. “Knock yourself out.”
She hands me a slice. “You eat some too. You looked famished.” She studies me closely as I bite into the bread, trying to not make eye contact.
She eats her slice after she looks satisfied.
“What’s your story?” she asks. I pause, not sure how to phrase it. “The usual, you know.”
“And what exactly is the usual?” she presses. I hold up my hands, feeling like a prisoner in my own home.
“You know, the whole orphanage thing.” I say vaguely.
“Amd what is the whole orphanage thing?”
“Just, like. I was found in the back of a alley, half dead in the winter. I was put in an orphanage and ran away like you, and worked at a diner until I got enough cash to buy a phone and took online classes. And bought this place.” I snap.
“Is that what you wanted to hear? A sob story?”
Aeoli shrank back, rolling into a ball. “Don’t hit me.” I recoil. “No, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.”
I sigh. “Let’s just get back to sleep.”