Larceny Leyton, a fifteen year old drug addict and orphan who dwells within the streets of Melbourne is writing to her mother who committed suicide when Larceny was only a few months old. She was born in Margaret Clark's 'Care Factor Zero' and I've re-worked it for an assessment task in English.
This is probably a bit silly writing to someone who doesn’t exactly exist anymore but apart from me you’re the only one that I can trust because you’ve sort of been there for me, as a part of me. But I still stand on my own, been in and out of foster homes, I know what it’s like. I know it must’ve been hard for you, copping the abuse from Dad, he was on drugs and alcohol right? Otherwise he’s a madman, either way it seems to have become a part of me...yes I’m an addict...and I cut myself, but it’s the voices that tell me to do these things. They live inside my head. One time when I was picking up some stuff from this guy who I didn’t have enough money to pay, I got a bit panicky and they told me to knock him out so I did, I think I killed the guy, which is why I fled to Melbourne. I never stay in one place for too long anyway, you form relationships and people start getting close to you. Just like how you let Dad get close to you, I still remember being told about the day you left. He had just been drinking, which really brought out his abusive side, and was bashing you against the wall, even with me in your arms! By the sounds of it I don’t know what you saw in him but anyway, you managed to call a cab to the hospital because you knew they would take care of me. You were so wrecked and covered in blood that the cab driver didn’t even ask you to pay since you had already run off into the hospital where you demanded that you needed a room, placing me on the bed you rushed towards the balcony. All the foster parents used it as a threat to me, how I could end up like you, and how your last words were;
“Don’t try to stop me, or I’ll jump.”
I wouldn’t want to end up like that but I suppose you did have a good excuse for it. I keep thinking what it would be like if you didn’t. You could’ve gotten support but I guess that doesn’t always work, I think we both know that.
You should probably know that I’m a street kid, because you just can’t trust people and most people tend to keep their distance and I like it that way. Nobody touches me. And I mean nobody. I’m sorry mum but the foster homes made me feel like I was a piece of furniture, most of the families were the ones that couldn’t raise kids on their own anyway.
I hated Nick from the moment I saw him, it annoys me how people are only nice when they want something from you, sure I’ll work for him but only for the dough, like I can improve business. Seriously, would you let a rough cut guy drag you around? What’s worse is he’s constantly popping up unexpectedly and grabbing my arm, wouldn’t have a clue why anyone would be interested in me. Come on, it’s Larceny, got to live up to my name. Who needs friends anyway, when you can rely on yourself. Like that Chris McCandles guy, the famous super-tramp who even wrote “I’ve lived a happy life” on that funky jungle bus of his and the only reason he died young was because he accidently poisoned himself, poor guy. Well you get my point, people are always seeking independence so it can’t be a bad thing can it?
Apparently I had fainted on the ground and found myself lying on someone’s grubby couch in a messy apartment, these two chicks were staring at me, one looking as if to say “she’s mine” referring to what seems to be her girlfriend. See why I don’t trust people, it just makes a bigger mess because you get so involved with their life. Not sure why I would faint unless it was the shock that finally decided to kick in after I killed that guy, at least I got my stuff and left a few bucks next to him, not that he’s gonna need it but just in case, I owed him something either way. Anyway those girls are glaring at my arms now, they’ve noticed the cuts which doesn’t bother me too much because it shouts ‘back off’. So what if I cut myself, I’m not the only one. Only thing I really give a damn about is losing myself completely like you did. I know this woman, she was one of the foster mothers, always worrying about everything and it was driving her insane, literally. Her name was Meryl Louise Davenport, bit of a funny name, she kept saying that she was “destroying their (her kids) futures” or something like that and comparing herself to other mothers she knew. She wasn’t even a bad mother, just had too much on her shoulders, wouldn’t want to end up like her though ‘cause you’ll just end up killing yourself physically or not.
You’re probably wondering how I survive on the streets but I have my way, lately I’ve been working as a waitress for Nick in his crappy cafe that people barely come into. I’m only doing it for the dough as I said before, I normally wouldn’t work for annoying creeps like him unless I had to, and pot is getting more expensive by the day. So one day out of nowhere Nick invited me to his place for some reason, he said that we needed to talk. I wouldn’t have a clue why when we could’ve done it there and then. At first I refused, but he’s surprisingly stronger than he looks, which kind of made me hate him more. Speaking of looks, he keeps staring at me as if we’ve met before or something, whatever it is I don’t like it. Once we had reached his place he started talking about I don’t know what, I was looking around, amazed at how he could afford everything he had. But then he mentioned you, which got my attention. He said that I reminded him of you because we’re so alike, but how does he know that? I’m not even sure if we’re alike, I barely even know or remember you. Oh no this can’t be good, no effing way. Nick’s my father? The rotten bastard that wouldn’t stop harassing you? This is worse than Holden Caulfield in the mental hospital, it’s got to be.
"Then I started reading this timetable I had in my pocket. Just to stop lying. Once I get started, I can go on for hours if I feel like it. No kidding. Hours."
Well no wonder he couldn’t survive in the real world, what a shame, he was pretty cool from what I’ve read. Yes I may be an addict and orphan but doesn’t mean I can’t read, it’s actually one of my favourite things to do in my spare time, they teach you quite a bit in foster care. When I was working for Nick customers only came at certain hours so I read when they didn’t bother me, public library’s don’t like me though, us ‘street kids’ yet they expect us to stay off the street, ahem? Anyway I read what I find interesting, stuff about people that I can relate to.
Stupid Nick, should’ve ran the first minute I saw him...and stayed with the old lady instead (yeah she offered me a job too but can’t remember why I was stupid enough to refuse). But I can’t do this anymore, I’m sorry mum. He’s too strong for us, at least we’ll be together again.
Well it looks like my journey ends here, the wall I had built had been cracked open by the truth. Thought I had the perfect barrier, I was tough and never let anyone touch me or even get close. And I’m not bragging, for years I’ve learnt to adapt to life on the streets, I had little connections because I was constantly on the move, but never got back in contact once I left, missing people never helped anyone. But how can anyone possibly be a daughter to that snob? Let alone have a child with him (no offence Mum but you can sure pick the right guy). Seriously, one look at the guy and you’d know he’s not as charming as he thinks, more like one of those guys who waste money just to impress girls, what a life (sarcasm of course). Anyway that’s why I relied on myself, and myself only because people ruin you, if there’s one thing that life on the streets has taught me it’s that. Why else would independence be such an aspiration? And you can’t care about too much either ‘cause you’ll have too much to stress about, and just about drive you insane, what a world we live in, danger is everywhere and I’m not sure if I can punch it in the face again. Then I just had to find out that the most disgusting creature on earth was my father, the one who gave you hell. What luck. After all I’ve been through, the son of the devil had to come along, pretending to be an innocent, sweet guy. And to think that he’s my father!
For as long as I can remember I’ve always lived for myself, not letting anyone else in. And as soon as I’d let someone in something goes wrong, I don’t know why I had let Nick get close to me but I was desperate, I just needed to get back on my feet. Nick isn’t just any guy off the street, he knows my secret: you. I just know that he’s going to ask me to stay with him or at least spend time with him, and I can’t even begin to think what that’s going to be like. People would think that I’m weak if they knew, which means they’ll just try to use me or somehow destroy me. I don’t want to lose myself mum.
So I’m in Nick’s apartment, looking out towards the balcony. I need to get out of here. It’s glaring at me, forcing me to jump, sound familiar mum? I know that I don’t want to end up like you but it looks like I’ve inherited the same gene. Goodbye stupid, cruel world.