She's young but can proudly say that her eyes are wide open and aware of the situation she is forced to live in. With that awareness comes the need to overcome it, whether it be good or bad. 14 years of being alive with the things stolen from people was hard but what matters the most is that she's alive and well.
"Thief!" A cry echoed out from the little stall in the market. Vendors perked their head up, very familiar with their situation. They were not surprised as a young lady tore through the crowd, past the other stalls as she occasionally bumped into other customers. There was a satisfied expression on her face, a stolen item in her hand.
Cassandra looked over her shoulder as she saw a man chasing after her, a slipper on his hand ready to throw it. A giggle escaped her lips as she looked back on her way, turning sharply to the left in an attempt to lose the vendor she robbed from.
Confused by the sudden disappearance of thundering footfalls behind her, Cassandra turned once more over her shoulder, the man no where to be found. She let out a successful laugh but was immediately cut off as her foot was caught onto something, sending her flying forward to someone– a boy frozen in place as he looked over like a reindeer in headlights.
They both fell into the floor, a cry escaping from the boy under her. Cassandra looked down at him in panic, pulling herself up with her elbows so she can't crush the boy with her weight.
"I–I'm sorry," Her hands hung in the air, unsure what to do as the boy's eyes went glassy. "Are you alright?"
"Do I look alright?" The boy whimpered, sitting up and inspecting his arm that was scratched from the rough floor of the market. He looks up, his dark hair disheveled and the same dark eyes narrowed at her, a small pout to his lips. "I'm calling dad,"
Cassandra was not at all impressed by this, she frowned deeply, fingers curling and rolling into a fist. "I'm sorry alright?" She stood up, feeling salty about the boy's reply. She inspected him, his neat collared shirt and short slacks along with his newly polished shoes told her a lot. This boy isn't from here–and he looks filthy rich. "If it makes you feel better call your daddy and cry under his shirt," Cassandra couldn't shut her mouth for the better.
The boy did nothing but glare at her, his dark eyes impossibly darkening more. He stood up as he brushed his shorts, his eyes staring into her soul. "Gladly," The boy replied, crossing his arms and judging her appearance.
Her dirty outfit didn't impress him at all, and to top it off with a messy braid; it made him scrunch his nose. He wanted to say something, intimidate her but with her tall figure towering over him, he can't. It's a huge dent to his ego.
His eyes landed on a the paper bag and Cassandra noticed it too, the stolen item she dropped after impact. She was about to take it, already bending forward and reaching out. It was hers after all, after stealing it from the vendors stall and running away– but the boy beats her to it. Cassandra clicks her tongue, rich kids would always be nosy.
"Give it," She reached for it but the boy turned around, opening it to find vegetables. He rolled his eyes.
Of course...beggar's food.
He threw it back to Cassandra, shoving his hands in his pockets, laughing. She caught it in her arms, and glared at him, offended. The boy dropped his expression.
"My name is Alex," He introduced himself, his attempted to soften his face a bit. It was clear he was trying to be polite, to take back his attitude just a second ago. He gestured to himself with his open hand to his chest.
Cassandra, however, didn't bother, she stared at him judgingly. Eww, a dwarf.
She turned around in her heels and walked away leaving him behind.
"Hey! What's yours?" Alex called out, he went after her. "Hey!" But his small frame wasn't able to keep up and fight against the crowd. Then, he was gone, much to Cassandra satisfaction.
She hopes to never find that brat again.
Ever.
____________________
"I bought dinner," Cassandra says, walking in a shack she can proudly call a home. Handmade by her hardworking brothers, made by different materials they found in the garbage dump and positioned along with other houses that looks just the same. It blended perfectly in the small village, where houses looked as if they're about to fall apart any time and where houses looked like misfit puzzles that were forced to put together.
One of her elder brother, the oldest to say, looked up from the dining table. "What did you say?" Caleb Thompson took the father figure role after their dad was imprisoned, it was ironic to think of it as he looked just like their father; brown hair, dark eyes and all. He did anything to help the family, going as far as dropping out of school just to help out their mother sell repaired shoes. There was a strict expression on his face as he approached his little sister.
He grabbed the paper bag from her hands and took a look inside of it, he sighed, looking around the house before bending down to her level. "Listen Cass, what did I tell you?" Caleb slowly said. His eyebrows were furrowed, disappointed, he run his hand through his sandy hair.
"I just want to help—"
"What did I tell you?"
Cassandra looked away, not answering. There was silence for a while before Caleb placed a hand on her shoulder, sighing. "I told you to stop stealing, didn't I? I want you to focus on your studies first, leave it to Mom and I to get food on the table,"
Feeling guilty, Cassandra decided not to say anything, fiddling with her fingers instead as Caleb stared at her.
Silence broke as the door opened once again, their mother going in with many shopping bags hanging on her forearms. Her face caked with makeup, her dark hair up in a very complicated twists of curls. Her eyes landed on the siblings, and they look back at her.
"I've got a new job," She said excitedly, she put down the bags and with difficulty walked over to them with her high heels. "We're gonna start a new life, my dears. We're gonna be rich,"
She grabbed the cheeks of Caleb kissing both of his cheeks before bending down to Cassandra, doing the same. Their mother paused, looking around. "Where's Carl?" She asked.
Caleb pursed his lips. "He went out with his friends, again," He flatly said. Carl is the second eldest, the middle child– he rarely comes home, going out with friends doing who know what. They would say Carl is the polar opposite of Caleb— he was ruthless and careless, even if he's schooled he thought it was better to cut classes. Just like the polar opposites, North and South; Caleb and Carl never get along with each other.
Their mother was once informed that Carl was injured from jumping out the window, for an attempt to cut classes, he was suspended for a whole week.
And for that whole week, the house was filled with screams. Their mother scolding Carl– the teen answering back and cursing at her. It was tiring.
Their mother pursed her red lips, placing a hand on her hips. She bit the inside of her cheek, clearly annoyed. "Never mind that boy," She walked over to the shopping bags. "I've got something for the two of you,"
They watched as their mother walk across the small house, bending down to get the bags with great difficulty, as she was dressed in a rather short clothing.
"What's your new job, mom?" Caleb approached smiling proudly. Cassandra noticed how her mom tensed but caught hold of herself and smiled at the two of them.
"I'm... an assistant in a boutique store," She smiled. "Hence the clothing, got it for free,"
Caleb's smile dropped a bit, looking suspicious but decided not to say anything against it. Cassandra wasn't phased, throwing herself and hugging her mother. "Thank you mommy, for working for us,"
She looked up at her mother, who was frozen for a second. Cassandra saw something shifted in her eyes– was that guilt? But nevertheless, her mother smiled wider.
"Anything for all of you,"