The First Day

Marcel woke her up in the morning. In the light, she was able to see more of him. His curls and the tone of his dark brown eyes. But she also saw how sunken his cheekbones were, how loose his clothes were on his body.

The others looked no better. Their clothes were all old, with stains and holes like they had never worn anything else in their lives. They younger three seemed a little more alive, but the older ones had tired looks in their eyes that she had seen too many times in her dad.

She was able to see the space clearer as well. It was an old warehouse, with a line of windows off the ground. The sunlight illuminated the kitchen sets and tables with boxes on them. There was a catwalk on the opposite side of the room from the windows which led to more rooms. Marcel showed her the flower boxes with strange green plants that smelled strange. Like pepper.

She didn't like pepper.

She noticed the people on the couches and chairs under the windows. They were all asleep when she first arrived. But as she tended to the strange smelling plants, they woke up. A few of them threw up in the buckets scattered around the space, but none of them paid the kids any mind.

It wasn't until the afternoon that things got interesting. The door to one of the rooms upstairs opened. The people on the couches got quiet. Rico froze beside her. But Vic saw as his hands gripped the black dirt. As his shoulders hunched up, as he tried to make himself smaller.

Vic felt something close to anger ignite in her chest. Her jaw clenched. This little boy, this child, shouldn't have to be so afraid. He should be home. Arguing with his siblings, stealing treats from the kitchen, playing in the streets.

A man stepped out of the doorway. He had hair the colour of rust. He was skinny, with sunken skin. There was a bottle in his hand. Everyone watched as he walked down the stairs, each step echoed through the room. He surveyed the area before his eyes locked on Vic.

She stood up as he walked over. She met his eyes and didn't look away.

"Get behind me," she told Rico. He scrambled to do so, his tiny hands tight on her shirt.

The man stopped in front of her. His hazel eyes were focused in on her, filled with hate. He smelled like alcohol.

"Speak English?" He asked. His voice was scratchy but it was one of a young man.

"Yes," she answered.

"Good," he said. "Then you'll know what is going on. I'm not going to joke around. You do your job, or you don't eat. Got that? You belong to me."

She narrowed her eyes. "I don't belong to anyone."

He slammed the bottle on the table. Rico's hands gripped her shirt tighter. She didn't look away.

The man gripped her jaw. She just glared at him, the look that made the kids on the playground stay away from Kiley.

But he wasn't a bully on the swings.

"Listen to me you little bitch," he hissed out. "You will do as I say, you got that? Or I will make things hard for you." His fingernails dug into her skin. She felt something trickle down her neck. "You understand?"

She gritted her teeth. "Yes."

He let go of her. She didn't raise a hand to rub on her sore neck. Something stung. "Good," he said. "Glad you know who's in charge."

He left the pieces of the bottle by the table, the liquid dripping onto the floor. He walked back up the stairs and to the room he came from. The door slammed shut.

Vic turned to Rico. "Okay?" She asked.

He blinked, shocked.

"You're the one bleeding and you ask him if he's okay?" Marie asked as she arrived.

Vic turned to the girl. "How bad is it?"

The others came over as Marie examined the cut. "Not bad, it's barely a scratch."

"It was not about the injury," Marcel pointed out. "It was about the message."

Vic looked at the people on the couches. They were whispering with each other, eyes going to the group of kids like they finally noticed them.

"We'll talk about it later," Vic resolved. Her voice was low. "When we're alone."

The others nodded. For now, they set back to work.

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They slept in a pile. The mattress was barely big enough to hold the three older ones when they slept on their sides. Rufus slept on his back, Marie on her stomach, Dakota and Marcel slept on their sides.

The younger ones slipped between the older ones where they could. Rico was on Rufus's chest, Gabrial was between Marie and Dakota and Angel was between Marie and Marcel.

Vic saw no way she could fit in this pattern. She wasn't given a choice. Marcel pulled her down between him and Angel. The little girl looked hesitant but she relaxed into the mattress like this was normal.

"How is your jaw?" Marcel asked.

"Doesn't hurt as much," she replied. "Stopped bleeding a while ago."

"That's good," Marie said. She yawned.

"Can you guys teach me your languages?" Vic asked.

That got them all alert. Rico sat up on Rufus's chest. Angel's eyes shot open. Marcel looked surprised. Marie leaned on her elbows. Little Gabrial stuck his head up, confused.

"Why?" Dakota asked.

"Because I think it might be safer for us to speak in a language that the others can't understand," she explained.

"Makes sense," Rufus said.

Marcel nodded. "We will teach you. And you help us with yours."

Vic smiled. "Deal."