Waking Olivia

When I was little, I used to lay in my bed, curled up like a kitten and imagine my life. The life I imagined was not my future adult life but rather my childhood. I used to dream that a loving couple would come and adopt me. They would take me to their home and give me a room of my own, fresh baked cookies and more love then a child had need for. Of course, that dream never quite came true for me. I had certain 'difficulties' that made adoption elusive. Nobody wants a problem child.

My mother died shortly after I was born. I was told it was in a car wreck. My father apparently felt that he couldn't handle a toddler on his own. He left me with the lady who lived in the apartment next to his. Said he was going out for milk, only he never came back. I stayed with the lady for a week before she took me down to the police station. I had just turned two. If they found my father, they never told me. I went to live in a foster care facility. There I remained a ward of the state until I turned fourteen. That was the day Lydia Milient became my foster mother. Lydia was an eighth grade History teacher. She became my best friend. I had never known anybody who actually wanted me, but Lydia did. She loved me. I stayed with Lydia until I was eighteen. For most teens, turning eighteen is a milestone, a reason for joy. For foster children it means you will be homeless. Eighteen. The big day. The checks to pay for my care stopped coming that day. It was time for me to find my own way. Lydia knew this day would come. She prepared me for it. It was because of her that I maintained a part time job since I was fifteen. It wasn't very much. Being a minor I could only work so many hours. But all of the money I made from that job went into my 'when I turn eighteen and become homeless' fund.

Lydia, being the kind of person that she is, told me that I could stay with her for a while after I turned eighteen. But teachers, they don't make much. I didn't want to be a burden, so I only stayed two months past my birthdate. During this time, I worked full-time at my bookstore job and paid Lydia a small amount to help with my expenses. Finally the day came. Lydia drove me to my new apartment. It was a small place across town. The rent was decent and it wasn't too far away from my job. That was a major advantage since I can't drive. Lydia helped me to unpack all the while laughing and talking. We made pizza that night for dinner. Lydia never had been a very good cook, so I made the pizza while she set out the paper plates and red plastic cups. Two pieces of pizza and four hugs later and Lydia left me. My first night alone was miserable. I felt so lonely and cold. Blanket wrapped around me, I huddled into the corner beside my dresser and cried myself into a troubled sleep. That was the first day of my adult life.

Life didn't get easier but I learned to live with it. I saw Lydia often and that helped. Several nights she would come to my place after work and we would have dinner and play a game of clue or scrabble.

I smiled to myself as I hurried home from work. It was getting dark quickly. I wanted to go home take a long hot bath and then make a surprise cake for when Lydia came over tomorrow night. The air was cold and the side walks were slushy. I pulled my cost collar up as I rounded the corner bringing me to the street that I lived on. Lost in my own thoughts, I didn't notice the three men leaning against the building smoking their lungs.

"Well, look what we have here, fellas." One man drawled casually as he grabbed hold of my arm.

"L-let go." I stuttered as I tried in vain to jerk away from him.

The other two men laughed gruffly as they abandoned their spot by the wall to join their friend.

I could feel my head getting heavier as dizziness overtook me. No, no no! My muscles weakened. I fought, trying to remain conscious as the familiar black started to slid over my mind. I slipped into a sleep.

-----

"Thank you, hon. I appreciate it."

"That's alright, Mrs. Linstrem. Is there anything else you need?"

"No, dear. I'll be fit as a fiddle now that my t.v. is working again. It's a terrible bother to have a t.v. that is broken. "

"Well, you won't have to worry about that any longer." Mason laughed as he packed up his tools.