Two Voices

“Being adopted should have been the best feeling of my life. But it felt nothing like it.”

Separated from their mothers only seconds after they first met. Mabel and Bridget became best friends over their passion to find their lost parents. They bonded over the discovery of their inhuman abilities and formed a somewhat inseparable relationship. When they discover the origin of their tragic past, they are willing to do anything to get their lives back.

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11. Stealing For GOOD?

Eleven

 

“Wake up Bridget! It time to get ready.”

I sat up in my bed hastily. The sky was a murky orange as the streetlights scared away the moon’s ray of light. I knew what we were going to do. It was that time of the week again.

Scarlett handed me my only other shirt and jeans and I slipped into them without a trace of sound. I always hated what Scarlett made me do. But sometimes it’s the only way we could have enough to feed the family. Of course Fake Mum didn’t. She had just thought Scarlett had found some work with the neighbours. What she did was work alright. It’s just not the good kind.

Scarlett slowly opened the door and we crept out into the living room. Everything was so still and calm compared to the craziness of daytime. Millie is the kind of person who would go from screaming out for attention to hiding under the covers of her bed wanting to be left alone. Daniel and David love running around the living room playing racing cars and airplanes while constantly bashing into walls and knocking over anything left on the table.

Scarlett delicately opened the front door and snuck outside, dragging me behind her. She shut the door again and that time we heard the gentle click of the lock.

I looked over at the cars in the parking lot as we silently slid down the stairs. Some were clean and were parked perfectly in the lines and some were wrecked and dirty, their accessories falling apart in a heap in front of them. Most of them belonged to these dealers who lived in the flats below. We heard their doors open and close every night and the huddled whispers of how much of what do you need always seeped through the cracks in our floorboards.

We ran out of the lonely estate and into the city. I knew where we were going. There was a street of rich houses that were occupied by people who were always out. And they always leave their money in obvious places.

Scarlett climbed over the gate and carried me over it. She crept over to the window and fiddled with the hatches. She pushed the window up and climbed into the house. I stood at the back of the garden hesitatingly.

It was wrong to steal. Any child would know that at six years old. Scarlett was nineteen and she’d been persuading me to come with her to rob houses since I was three. I knew that she only went and stole from houses because we were close to the verge of being homeless but it doesn’t counteract the fact that she has to steal to get the money. She could have always worked for it!

“Come on!” she beckoned, “We don’t have all night.”

“I don’t want to,” I whispered, “It’s wrong to do this! What happens if we get caught?”

“I know that! But if we’re going to have something to eat tomorrow we have to do this. Don’t worry! No one will see us.”

I reluctantly ran across the garden and climbed through the window. I expertly landed the sleek lino floor and followed Scarlett up the spindling stairs of the house.

“You go and check the bedrooms.” she mouthed at me.

That was her usual routine. She would make a route for entry and exit then check the doors to see if there was someone there.

I peeked into every door. The rooms were empty but every time I opened the door I couldn’t help staring at them. The people who lived there had four poster beds and tons of gold lined mirrors. The floors were always a confusion of colour and the walls were decorated in an array of shapes and shades.

It wasn’t fair that people could have so much and others were stuck with so little. People could earn millions of pounds a day yet some people can barely earn ten pounds a week. The thought sickened me.

“There’s no one here.” I said.

Scarlett pushed one of the doors open and dashed for the drawers, pulling them out of there holes and digging out every coin it contained.

“There’s enough here to feed us all for a month!” she cried, stuffing tons of notes into her bag.

I smiled. Getting money this way wasn’t the best. But at least it would keep us going. It would cover the bills; rent; food and water with money to spare for sweets and nice clothes. That was the richest you would ever get with a family like us.

We stood up to leave and then we heard a noise. Not just any noise. The noise of a key in the lock.

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