Downpour;

Her feet, numb with pain as she stumbled down the cold, lonely streets of New York; the alleys, paved with chilling pebbles managed to create perfect indentations upon her rough, yet fragile souls that told stories of past hardships and future journeys. Panting relentlessly, Alyssa-Rose fell to the ground in a bundle of overwhelming emotion. Looking down at the tiny baby she clutched within her emaciated arms, the tears welled up inside of the innocent baby’s eyes; Alyssa-Rose began to shake incessantly. Without a thought, she quickly gathered the baby and placed her ever so gently in the padded area of the dumpster, plummeted down to the floor, once again and began to cry. Memories of the day that she had just encountered and her life up until this moment flourished into her mind like a scattered film. Involuntarily ignoring the traumatised infant’s cries, she withdrew into the happenings of that fateful day.1

It began as a regular day; nothing out of the ordinary for the usually mundane life of Alyssa-Rose. Being homeless, Alyssa was street wise. She knew almost every trick in the book, every master in disguise and every ditch in the approaching roads. Consequences of an upbringing as turbulent as her own, causing her to escape from her family’s suffocating emotional and physical restraints at only seventeen. Alyssa-Rose was born into a family that always reminded her of a hunger crazed beast – beautiful on the outside but terrifying on the inside. This was because, at initial glance, her family was a picture perfect suburban arrangement. Her father Bruce, to the outside world was a handsome Real Estate agent, who day by day would sell the superficial, fragmented idea of a flawless home to a ‘flawless’ family, yet night by night, drinking himself into oblivion and reflecting his inner anguish through his fists and sour tongue, her mother Angelica, an extremely ‘humble’ housewife, who, through the eyes of the world was a loving, caring mother however, behind closed doors, she would erupt into a ball of favouring fury. Both Alyssa’s parents seemed to have an intent dislike for her, although, when it came to her dearly beloved twin sister, Emma-Jane, nothing but illuminating love permeated from their souls. 2

Exhausted from her screams never being heard, Alyssa, sick of speaking silence vowed to herself that she would never feel such excruciating pain again. 3

Ever.4

It had been approximately three years since Alyssa-Rose ran away from her pathetic excuse of a home. Although, one’s concept of time is largely impaired when living in and out of commission housing, being in and out of work and dwelling in the streets of New York, so in actual fact, the definite duration was debatable. All she knew was, it felt like forever.5

“You seem new here”, a strange voice stated from behind her. She was right; Alyssa had never been on the streets before. This was a different form of a nightmare, colder, yet oddly, safer than her home. Alyssa, quickly alarmed, immediately jumped around to investigate the intimidating presence of this unknown person. “I am”, Alyssa defensively replied with a look of repulse and shame in her eyes, simultaneously. The girl looked about Alyssa’s age. She was tall, pale, and extremely slender; Alyssa was quick to notice large lacerations, similar to her own upon the girl’s arms and face. “We lived the same life”, Alyssa thought aloud. “What?” the beaten girl inquired, with no reply, she continued to talk; “look, you obviously haven’t been here very long, I know that because I have, and you honey, are exactly what the scavengers want; fresh meat, so I strongly suggest you either go home, which, judging by your face is a stupid idea, or come with me”. Alyssa, stepping towards the girl, felt like her insides were eating themselves alive. She couldn’t remember the last time she ate. Eventually acknowledging and accepting the girl’s help in her own way; “I’m Alyssa-Rose. What’s for dinner?”6

This would be the start of the rest of her life.7

Jenny taught her everything she knew. She was the reason Alyssa had survived this long. But despite their unique, unbreakable bond, Jenny could never fill the empty void within Alyssa’s blackened heart. There was constant rivalry dominating her mind. The demons that resided within her thoughts had convinced her that she had to reconcile with her childhood self; only achievable by raising a daughter. This would be a clear slate, a fresh start in Alyssa’s life. Irrespective of Jenny’s concerns and advice, Alyssa, so fragile and broken, made the decision that would make everything okay. She would re-raise herself.8

Alyssa stood in the fruit markets, on her way to get her daily dose of rotten apples that were no longer good enough to sell to normal people anymore. Her eyes gazed across the avenue when the face of an innocent little baby girl, crying to her mother as she was repeatedly smacked across the face, caught her unavoidable attention. Alyssa’s entire world stood still. In a panic of memories, she walked around in circles, clutching at her face as scarring flashbacks of her childhood that she had never fully repressed came gushing in like a tsunami. It felt like she had been thrashed around into a stone wall over and over, so much, she melted into it. Pulling herself together, she darted across the avenue, running into everyone and everything in her way snatched the weeping baby out of her mother’s arms and ran. “Daphne! Daphne!” the mother called. Ignoring her cries, “why should we listen?” Alyssa whispered to the baby, “no one heard us. Besides, your name isn’t Daphne anymore. It’s Ally”9

Alyssa-Rose ran through the countless streets of New York for hours; nothing would stop her except the sound of Ally’s churning, starving stomach. The rain poured down on them like needles. The alleys, paved with pebbles beat her feet with pain. Finding a quiet cove, Alyssa placed Ally in a dumpster and thought “what have I done? We’re both going to die. Any life is better than this” After what had seemed like a lifetime of remembrance, Alyssa-Rose gathered up the now sleeping Ally, staggered to the train tracks and lay there until the end of time. 10

Laura Tinling, 200911