I came home from school five minutes later than normal, since I was busy trying to talk the guidance counselor out of calling social services. Zack had gone to the couselor to tell them of the abuse I received, something which really wasn't any of his business. I gave him a quick bawling out before I ran home. There was a small time crunch; I needed to get home so I could wait on Horst.
Horst had a few buddies over to play poker. All of them were equally drunk and laughing like demented trolls when I walked in the door. I pressed my lips together tightly, angry at the sight.
"Well, well...there's Kermit the Frog," Horst's best friend, Bob laughed cruelly.
I ignored him and continued walking to my room, once again cursing my mother for giving me that horrid name. I had a little bit of math homework that I needed to catch up on. But unfortunately for the teachers, there would be another excuse tomorrow for not having it done. I knew Horst wasn't too willing to give me a break.
"Idiot!" he shouted. "Get your rump in here and get us some food before I beat the skin off your back!"
I reluctantly drifted into the living room. "There's not much food left in the cabinets, Horst. All there is is a pound of hamburger, lettuce, a drop of dressing, and beer."
"Run and get us some food from the gas station."
"But I have no money!"
"Well, dang it! What did you do with it! I ain't got much more than three dollars on me!"
I thrust my head forward. "Maybe if you didn't spend it on booze and cigarettes, we'd have more food in this hellhouse!" I shouted defiantly.
"Shut up, scum! Go find some food, then! Beg if you have to! I don't care!" he bawled.
I stepped out the door just in time to feel my stomach begin to growl. It never was satisfied. I never got the luxury of lunches, either. Sure, sometimes my friends were able to get me a bag of chips or a cookie bar or something, but it wasn't enough to really satisfy me. Oh why did I have to be born into such a horrid world?
I knew the neighbors well and wondered bitterly whether I'd be able to get some food or not. That's when I saw old Mrs. Carlton bringing in groceries from her SUV. She always had plenty of food, despite the fact that she wasn't much richer than us. At least the Carltons had jobs; all five of them, so they brought in a pretty good income. I glanced around quickly, biting down hard on my lower lip. It would take at least six trips in order for her to get all the food inside. Enough time.
I ran to the open vehicle, seized a plastic bag full of food, and dashed home, my heart racing. She'd never know I stole from her. She was so old and decrepit.
When I dumped out the bag on the kitchen table, and sifted through it all, I felt my mouth began to water. I gave Horst and his friends a bag of Sun Chips and slid a whole package of Oreos under my shirt. I felt like a king.
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