I don't own any of S. Meyers characters....
It had been days. Maybe even a week since I had really eaten enough food to satiate the pain I felt in my belly. If it weren't for the rough burning in my chest and throat, I could easily go a few more days. But this was too much. I needed something thick and heavy to eat so that it would squash this fire inside me. I thought about my options as I walked through the alley ways and gutters. I knew the bakeries would have scrap dough in their dumpsters after the sun started to come up. And I knew that there were different types of food in certain parts of town that would have bread and vegetables and even some meat they had thrown out. To most it would sound like I had options available from all over the world to choose from. And yet, every one of the dumpsters that sat behind every one of the cafes, bistros, restaurants, bakeries and stores had something about them that forced me to think out how and when I could climb into them to look for food. It wasn't just so easy to walk up and jump in expecting to find something that someone's wife sent back to the chef. The cooks at the Chinese restaurants threw out buckets of fish guts on top of the expired noodles and rice. There were more cats and rats and roaches in those dumpsters than others. I didn't go there much anymore after getting bitten by a cat and being swatted away by one of the waitresses. And while that beating wasn't so bad, I didn't like the idea of getting bitten by animals that were as hungry and dirty, if not more, than me. I had learned to avoid the alleys that had a lot of bars in them because of all the glass bottles that were mixed in with the trash. A couple of peanuts and a hand full of glass shards was not my idea of a good night. I had discovered that the hard way when I climbed into a dumpster thinking that there would be more food than empty bottles of booze. I still had shards of green glass embedded in the arches of my feet and the palms of my hands. The skin had grown thick but translucent over the gagged edges of the glass leaving me with splotchy looking green bumps on the insides of both of my hands. I had found that the easiest places of late to find food had been in Little Italy. If someone didn't like their pizza or their pasta, the whole order was thrown out. Sometimes, I would find a whole pizza in a box. On those nights I feasted on somewhat fresh food and imagined what had transpired inside where people were unhappy with food and could send it back only to receive a new order and an apology to boot.
I had decided to come back to the alley where I had found a cache of uncooked pasta and moldy cheese a few weeks ago. I figured by now, if anything, there would be another round of expired food thrown out that I could eat. The first dumpster I climbed into was full of heavy black trash bags. Usually, these were better for finding food because the bugs and the rats hadn't gotten to them as quickly as they would if the food were thrown out loose. I started to feel around for the softest bag. It was somewhat noisy as there were a lot of cans and glass in a few of the bags. I found a bag that was softer than the others and started to tear it open. Just as I rested my eyes on what looked like a whole bag of dried up looking noodles and red sauce there was a noise at the door. I looked up to see a huge cook shaking a very large knife at me and heard him yelling at me in a language I knew wasn't English. I didn't argue or try to explain myself. I knew that didn't matter to them. The urge to justify my actions had dissipated a long time ago along with my dignity among other things. I climbed out of the dumpster empty handed and took off down the alley where I knew he wouldn't follow after me. Who was I to him? Just some hood rat messing up his neatly tied up garbage. I was just a homeless girl soiling his dumpster and probably putting his kitchen to shame. When I figured I was far enough away from the knife wielding cook and his precious garbage I hid out until I thought most of the shops and restaurants had closed for the night.
Running hadn't helped my case of hunger burn any. My legs felt weak and my body trembled from lack of calories. At some point during my wait, I had started dry heaving as the acid in my belly began burning stronger than before. I had been hiding in a dead end alley waiting for what smelled and sounded like a pizza place to close its back door for the night when I finally built up the energy, or maybe it was courage, to climb in their dumpster and look for anything remotely edible. I lucked out when I found two left over pizzas stuck together in a bag full of kitchen scraps. Without hesitation I started to eat the less burnt of the two. I had to eat slowly enough to keep from getting sick and hurting my empty stomach but quick enough that the taste didn't linger lest I get sick and throw it back up. In the middle of my focused consumption of the burnt cheese and dough I heard cars pull up next to the dumpster and a door in the alley swing open.
"What the fuck! I didn't take it, I swear!" There were several pairs of food steps and I could hear lots of shuffling.
"Look, idiot, we know you took it. We have three guys in there that said you took it and you've got it stashed at your girlfriend's house. Now either you admit you took it, tell us where we can find it and take the punishment or we can end this now with you, go after your girlfriend and whatever other family we find and end it there too." The man spoke quietly but with a ferocity that I hadn't heard in many years. It reminded me of my dad's tone when he would come into the house drunk after work. It was cold, calculating and full of hatred. I stopped eating, much to the protest of my still empty feeling belly and froze. I knew I shouldn't be hearing this, shouldn't be in the dumpster stealing someone's food, but I also knew that I didn't want to get caught this time. There was a pause of silence and then I heard the voices again.
"I already told you, man, I didn't take it. I didn't steal anything from you. I wouldn't lie about something like this to...." The voice sounded more like a muffled mumble now. It was strange, I could hear the man speaking, and I could hear his teeth clicking against something metal and then I realized there was a gun in his mouth. Before I knew it I was holding my breath waiting for all of the men to leave so I could escape. My body was frozen and straining to hear anything that tipped me off that they were gone. It was dead silent.
Two shots rang out. I heard a thud and then the second voice spoke up again in the same cold tone they had before.
"E, clean this shit up. You two help him out and then go find the girlfriend. Clear her apartment out and give her a one way ticket out of town." There were footsteps and then a car door opened and closed. The car took off. At first there was nothing and I was about to climb out of the bin when I heard more footsteps. I started to breath out of my mouth so I could hear better and keep as quiet as possible.
"Go inside and grab three trash bags and bring the hose out here so we can wash this shit up. Mike, go call the garbage service and tell them they've got a pick up to make ahead of schedule now." The voice was cold and hard like the last one that had given orders, but it wasn't fierce. He sounded irritated and impatient. Those tones I was used to hearing, I could pin point them easily.
A few minutes later the door swung open again and I heard the men shuffling and grunting. They spoke to each other but their voices were low and I couldn't make out what they were saying without leaning forward. I was worried that if I did that, they would hear me shift in the trash and I'd meet the same fate as the thief.
"Put it in the dumpster and we'll wait for the pick up." The voice ordered. I tensed up. Were they talking about this dumpster? I was cursing myself for not paying closer attention to the alley as I snuck into it. I was berating myself for not pushing myself for just another day before I ate because if I had, I wouldn't be in this dumpster listening to this going on only a few feet away from me. I heard the footsteps get closer to me and men breathing heavy. The shadows on the wall behind me grew taller and I knew they were headed towards where I was. I couldn't run. They had guns. Surely they'd shoot me in the back and leave me in a dumpster for the rats to feast on. While it was a fitting end, it was one I wasn't looking forward too at this point in my short, miserable life. I stayed frozen in panic as the two men walked up to the dumpster facing each other but looking down at the new trash they had to throw out. The man standing closest to me was tall with dark skin. He had thick, perfectly formed dreads pulled back into a pony tail and he looked like he was focusing on what was in his hands. The other man practically facing me was a little shorter. He was thin in the face and had blond hair that was greased back shiny. He looked like he was struggling with what was in his hands, but kept up with the taller guy. As they began to lift the body into the dumpster, while they were swinging it they started to count.
"One.....Two.....Three.....WHAT THE FUCK?!?!"
The body landed next to me and settled into the trash heap. Two shocked faces stared down at me. I was frozen out of fear staring between them and the heavy body resting up against my trembling arm.
The guy with the dreadlocks opened his mouth before shutting it once. He was breathing heavy and stared at me with such fire in his eyes that I thought he might shoot me right there with the other guy standing right there. He finally spoke.
"E, we've got a big fucking problem."
Realizing what he meant by problem, I felt my chest tighten up, my stomach start to churn and my heart started to fire rapidly. There wasn't any air to breath as far as my lungs were concerned. I felt my skin go hot and then cold with sweat. When my vision started to blur I started to blink faster and faster thinking it would clear the quickly fading faces of the two men in front of me.
"What the fuck are you two goin' on abou....." his voice faded when he saw me crouched in the trash bags. I heaved one last time before everything including his pale face and bright eyes faded out to black.
I've been pretty much addicted to for the last four months. ...I have a pretty boring life right now. So this is my first FanFic. I've written one other story but the characters were all mine and it's not done, so it's not posted anywhere. Regardless, I'm not sure how long this is going to be. I'm not one to write solely on the promise of reviews or feedback. I only ask that if you're gonna tear my work to bits, be constructive about it instead of lamely just throwing out useless criticism.
Till next chapter.....
EPOV is coming up soon and more from our homeless girl…