Elegance with Expense

1. Alessa Camilla Et Rossi

Authors Note: This chapter will be much shorter than future ones. My writing skills develop over the parts, mainly after the first few chapters. I hope you enjoy my story!

The police sirens at 1am were unsettling, however it was nothing unusual when walking home here. The shift was longer than expected due to some rude customers making a terrible mess before leaving and cursing out of the door. One of us accidently mixed in two sugars instead of one, quite harmless I know, but he didn't think so. 

Isabella was attempting to harshly rub away any of the leftover stains from her once white apron. I shook my head as I heard the incoherent words she was muttering under her breath.  

'Those absolute wankers, my mum is going to kill me!' Izzy sighed quite loudly.

Izzy and I both knew her mum would not care about something so small, she just wants to find an excuse to make a scene and be dramatic, even though it is just us two here right now.  Deep down I knew she only wanted to take my mind off what had happened earlier today, the beating I had received. The drug lords and gang members seem to have it in for me. I have never known why, I had never talked to them before. 

Whilst Izzy was ranting on about the ill-mannered individuals back at the café, I decided to take a look at the damage that they had done. I slowly and carefully lifted my hoodie, exposing my bruised and possibly broken ribs to the cold air. I hadn't even noticed I stopped walking until I heard Izzy gasp.

'What the fuck Alessa! That's the worst they have ever been!'

I knew she was right, I could go to a hospital, but there would be too many questions about my home life, guardian, where I got the injuries. I couldn't risk being sent to foster care. 

I tend to take care of my own injuries. I have rejuvenated with handling things like broken or fractured bones, stab wounds, burns and even bullet wounds, not many of which are actually mine. 

We lived in a run down neighbourhood in the South of London; away from the lovely Capital that the media parades so heavily. It wasn't the people that were horrible here, it was the general environment and natural struggle that came with it. We knew everyone, and we were actually close with most of them, they were all quite a bit older - maybe in their late teens/ early twenties. Because of the odd sense of community, they treated us like family since we had all lived in that area since we were young. 

We all have our jobs and activities that we do to help around, none are assigned, people just do what feels right. There are a lot of young children living there, we help them to get too and from school since their parents may not be able to. Not many of us can actually afford good food, so we usually steal basic goods from the market down town - just a short tube (underground train) ride away, its normally Angelo and I who steal, not because we run the fastest - that would have to go to the older guys - but because we are the sneakiest, we are very good at pickpocketing, and that has come to be a fact over the years. 

I cook for everyone, and with the little that we have, I do a good job, so they say. Occasionally- when we all have some supplementary time- we all eat together on the floor in the middle of the street near some bins, and talk about our days. It sounds rather sad, but we have decorated it with lights and some extra blankets so it feels as comfortable as possible. 

I try to work to provide for the younger kids, sometimes I end up going hungry to feed them, but I want to give them the best life possible whist living here. Its not easy, but these kids know no different. I would never want anyone to experience a childhood that I experienced, having no one to talk to, having no one to help with your homework, having to cook and provide for yourself at such a young age. I don't have much, but I give whatever I can.