written by Anna Michaela Balagot
The girl dashes through the streets, knocking over multiple people. She pulls her hood lower to avoid being recognized. She takes a sharp left and stumbles into a restaurant, making a beeline for the comfort room.
The girl waits till a few minutes pass and takes a deep breath. She fixes her backpack and peeks outside. She notices the customers chattering and eating their food, and the woman coming towards the comfort room. Taking it as her cue she steps out properly, nods at the staff in greeting and exits the restaurant.
The girl goes through the way she ran away from and begins her trek for home. She passes the buildings, waving at the children who look her way till she reaches an apartment building entitled 'Homerson.' She enters the building and nods to the old doorkeeper.
"Hey kid, nice to see you back safe, the moon's been peeking out for a while now," the doorkeeper gruffs while shifting his gaze back to the small television at his front.
"I'm fine sir, nobody can touch me. I'm too fast for them anyway," the girl says, puffing up her chest with a proud smile on her face.
The doorkeeper snorts at her response and gestures to the stairs, "You better get up there either way. Your mum's probably worrying by now."
Waving goodbye to the doorkeeper, the girl bounds up the stairs going to the third floor. She fishes out her keys and twists the doorknob open. Her mom, who sat in the kitchen, walked to the door and embraced her daughter.
"Marie, thank goodness your home! It's dark outside, what have you been doing?" her mother squishes her cheeks, fussing about as she checks her daughter for any injuries.
"MOM, Mom!! I'm fine please stop s-squishing my cheeks," Marie says in between her mother's hands. When she is free from her mother's grip, she makes a show of slowly turning around.
"There. Are you satisfied, mother?" Marie asks with a straight face in a t-pose.
"Very. Now, take a bath. I'll heat up dinner for both of us."
Moving to her room, Marie drops her backpack and opens it up to inspect its contents. In it sits her school books, notebooks, etc. then her eyes land on the paper bag at the side. She takes it out and wordlessly hands it out to her mom. Her mom looks at the bag.
"What's this?" her mother says plucking the paper bag and opening it. The smell of bread greets her and she is met with two loaves of plain bread.
"Just something I"—stole—"bought on the way home," Marie shrugs as she moves to the rack, picking up her towel.
"Hm. Smells good, thanks for bringing it home!! Maybe we can eat this for breakfast tomorrow-" her mother muttered as Marie steps into the bathroom. She looks herself in the mirror and sighs.
'Another day, another crime.'
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