London: 1984.
"Jackie! Jackie! Wake up!" Jackie wakes up when she feels a small body land on her stomach. "I'm up! I'm up!" She yells, annoyed at the boy's antics, she pushes her little brother, Max, off of her. Looking around the room, she could see nothing but peeling paint and the cracked brick behind it. The window, covered by metal bars, held nothing but the grey sky. Getting up from her bed, which was less of a bed and more a pile of rags, she couldn't help thinking to herself, 'And yet another grey day.' Ushering her little brother out of the room, Jackie started getting dressed in her typical denim jeans and a random T-shirt she was handed down by her cousin.
Walking out of her room, she stepped over a forty ounce bottle of malt liquor. Sighing, she picked it up and walked into the kitchen, throwing it in the trash. Taking in the sight of pots and pans piled high on the counter, she opened the cabinet to grab one of the three remaining cans of food they had left. Then she took the cleanest pot she could find and opened the can, pouring its contents into it before throwing a few pieces of wood into the oven and lighting it. Finally, she set the pot with the food on top of the oven and walked out to greet her brother.
Soon, a figure caught her gaze as it got up from their torn and scratched red couch. "Ugh…" It said as it held its head. "Morning mum." She said as she sat down at the table next to her brother. "Shut up, little bitch." her mother said as she walked over, knocking an empty bottle of jack off of the table which stood next to the couch with a crash. She ignored it though and came up to get in her daughter's face. "What?" The middle aged woman slurred with a hiccup as Jackie reached out and plucked a hypodermic needle from her mother's arm.
'My mother has been addicted to shooting K since about three months after my father passed. She's always been a self destructive person, but she had a reason to push the envelope with his passing… and now I live like this… i hate it, but i guess i've normalized it.'
At this point, the contents of the pot were done boiling and she transported it to a different burner on the range. Her mom would divy it up in portions later to freeze.
Whenever Jackie could get away from her family, she would. She cherished it to the point that even the menial things felt large and special. The only thing she would miss is Max and his ability to change her mood to something better.
She walked out the door, immediately captivated by the coreopsis flowers growing meekly out of the cracked sidewalk - she loved picking them for her mother in the good days. Jackie felt that weird feeling when you relate to something; she felt like those flowers, how they try to make the best out of their given situation.
'I guess this is a regular Thursday morning for me, getting up, doing the morning routine, then heading to school.' She thought to herself, striding down the hard cobblestone street covered in gravel.
She attended P.S. 97. The government never really paid much attention to public schools in the run down areas so it was musty and had a vibe that was... off. Jackie was in the collegiate academy because she wanted to make something of her life and not be like the other low life adults that clutter the area.
The school had that crusty ass carpet that you think of when you picture old folk homes or run down motels. It was able to capture every smell that was smellable in the past 20 years. The school smelled faintly of Cambridge ciggies and must. 'In some weird way, I've grown to enjoy the odor of this school, it was like an old friend of mine that I thought of when I haven't seen them in a bit.
Going into school gave me a feeling comparable to a small high, I knew I was here to be the person I want to be. I could hide everything about home and be the cheery person I like people seeing me as. '