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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/2050387
by L.D.R.
Rated: 13+ · Novel · Friendship · #2050387
A traumatized girl finds a home and forms an odd friendship with a lonely, selfless writer
Amy awoke to find herself curled in a ball, mumbling gibberish as she sleepily sat upright, rubbing her eyes. It took her a moment to remember where she was- her sleep had been less-than perfect, with unsettling, fractured dreams throughout, and she was still a bit groggy.

Slowly her memories of the previous night returned to her, and she stretched, yawning. She glanced around a bit, examining her surroundings. Now that daylight trickled in through the windows, she could see a bit more clearly, and had more time to glance around. The room she was in was a bit sparse, but comfortable, with just a few chairs and cushions scattered about. There was a table in the center of the room, with a little picture. Amy stood and examined it curiously. Anya was in the center, though a bit younger, alongside a tall, blonde girl with a wide, crazy grin- a sister, judging by their similar faces.

"Ah, there you are." She jumped as her hostess' voice rang out. Anya good-naturedly made her way around the couch, offering Amy a plate of eggs. "Here. I've already eaten."
Amy mumbled her thanks, before bolting down her breakfast. She tried to slow herself- after all, this meal wasn't likely to go anywhere, but it was hard fighting a lifetime of developed instinct to eat as fast as possible. In the meantime, Anya made her way to the couch. She walked a bit slowly, with a pronounced limp. Amy uncertainly stood, and aided the taller girl, acting as a bit of a crutch.

Anya laughed bitterly, sitting down. "Ah, my leg isn't the greatest." She sighed, looking down at the limb- her left leg seemed to be slightly crooked, with a kink in it that didn't seem entirely natural. "Hurt it pretty bad when I was little." She shrugged. "Still, could be worse. I can still walk fine!"

Amy sat next to her, nodding in silent agreement. Anya watched her small companion eat for a bit, before frowning a little. She stood up and walked off for a moment and returned with a pair of scissors. Amy nervously eyed them, her mouth twitching into a frown.

"W-what are those for?" She asked, apprehensively.

Anya smirked. "You need a haircut, little one." She lightly pushed Amy off the couch, and sat so she was above her head. "Just a little bit, is all. It's far too long."

Amy protested quietly, but held still, grudgingly allowing Anya to begin snipping at her unruly locks. Her hair was too long, really. It was nice in a way, to get this kind of attention.

"Okay, time for traditional barber-style chat."Anya grinned. "Have you always lived in this town?"

Amy almost shook her head, but caught herself. No need to move while a set of razor-sharp blades snipped at her hair. "N-no. I... came here when I was little. I don't know much about when or where I was born..."

"Why not?" Anya sounded concerned, taking a moment to set the scissors down and grab a brush, which she used to attack Amy's horrendously tangled hair.

"My... p-parents weren't very close to me- ow!" She winced as the brush pulled. "I- ow. Don't remember them even looking me in the eyes that often. I guess it c-could have been- OW!"

"Sorry..." Anya winced- she had to let go of the brush for a moment and use her hands to untangle some parts of Amy's hair- she had never seen such a mess, and if she pulled too hard she might end up ripping a large amount out- it was a little brittle from a long time without being cleaned.

Amy shrugged, and scrambled away as soon as she was released from Anya's grip. The pale girl laughed softly. "Well, I tried. It looks a little nicer now, anyway, but still filthy. I hope I don't have to teach you to bathe regularly."

Amy bristled. "I-I c-can wash myself thank you very much." She snapped.

"Okay then." Anya grinned quirkily. "Just head down the hall and take a bath. I'm going to get you some clothes that aren't totally ratty." And with that, she stood up, grabbed an umbrella and walked out. Amy peered out the window and watched her walk lightly down the street, umbrella over her head and in high spirits.

Amy smiled softly, before making her way to the bathroom. She was looking forward to being clean.

------------------------------------------------------------


An hour or so later, Anya made her way up the steps into her house, carrying a few bags of clothes with her. She slipped in the house and made her way down the hall, taking a moment to set the bags down. The girl limped down the hall, rapping lightly at the bathroom door.

"Amy? When you're done, I have some clothes for you out here, okay? I'll leave them outside the door." Anya made her way back, before sitting, scribbling in a little notebook that she carried with her. After a few minutes Amy stepped into the room and Anya's jaw dropped.

"Wow! That's an improvement!" She smiled. Amy had attacked the dirt and grime on her body and in her hair with wild abandon, and seemed almost a little gleeful to be clean- her hair actually looked its proper color now, and she had taken the time to wash and re-bandage the light injuries on her hand. She looked like a pretty, healthy young girl. She was still a bit pale and thin, but some color was beginning to enter her face, and Anya had sworn to herself to feed the small girl enough to solve the other problem.

Amy blushed slightly and made her way to one of the little cushions and sat down. "I-I certainly feel better." She admitted, radiating quiet joy. "I haven't been able to have a real bath for a while now." They sat in silence for a bit, just enjoying a moment to sit and think. Amy's head began drooping a bit, and she felt her thoughts beginning to lose coherence. She was pulled unceremoniously from her semi-lucid state by Anya lightly tapping her shoulder.

"Mm?" She looked the albino girl in the eyes, tilting her head.

"How do the clothes feel?"

"Oh!" Amy glanced at herself. She was wearing a pair of jeans and a loose-fitting sweater. "F-fine, fine. They're nice."

"When was the last time you had a bath?" Anya tilted her head, curious. Amy leaned back and thought for a bit.

"Well it hardly counts but I went swimming in the river when it was still summer... I t-tried to scrub some of the dirt off w-when I did." She shrugged. "I... actually it was nice, now that I think about it. I felt almost... lighter, afterwards."

Anya nodded. "Considering how little you weigh normally, I bet that you actually were a bit lighter after all that mess was gone." She frowned a bit. "Your hair's still a disaster though."
Amy sighed, and sat down against the couch, as Anya picked up the brush again, beckoning her over. The going was easier this time, however, with less tugging and pulling. Anya hummed a soft, unfamiliar tune as she brushed the smaller girl's hair. Once she had mostly fixed it up, she grabbed a set of scissors and began trimming and shortening Amy's hair.

"D-do you have any family?" Amy asked, suddenly. Anya blinked, surprised, before smiling and nodding.

"Yeah. Mum and Dad still visit, and big sis lives nearby too. Oh, and my grandma lives just downtown. Really, I have quite a lot of family! We mostly get along."

"Must be n-nice..." Amy murmured.

Anya paused, before turning Amy in order to trim her bangs a bit. "What about you? Do you have a
family?"

Amy swallowed softly, before she spoke. "...Y-yeah. I did, once. I... Not anybody who loved me, but... a family."

"W-what?" Anya seemed appalled. "Not even your parents?
The smaller girl nearly shook her head, before remembering, once again, that it was not best with scissors present. She instead lowered her eyes a bit.

"No." She swallowed again, her voice surprisingly hoarse. "I... Barely remember them ever even looking at me. They didn't... hate me, but..." She lowered her head. "It w-2as like they tried hard to not acknowledge me."

Anya sat in silence, listening. She slowed her scissor work, and resumed lightly brushing Amy's hair. In a way, her presence was comforting, and Amy forged ahead.

"I guess..." She looked down. "I w-was a burden."

Anya set the scissors down and hugged Amy. "Never say that!"

Amy squirmed a bit, surprised. "Uh, p-please stop... hugging..."

Anya resolutely clung on, tutting. "You should never call yourself a burden, okay...? It's not good for your mind."

Amy sighed, giving up her struggles for the time being. "But... It's not like I can do anything..."

"I dunno... You got into my house by yourself. You clambered inside through a locked window. You must have some skills do that kinda stuff." Anya winked, ruffling Amy's hair, before releasing her. "Just mull it over, lovely." Anya rose and walked to put her scissors away, returning with a hand mirror so Amy could examine her fresh-cut hair. The little one stared at herself in awe, her hair once again the glossy black that she recalled it to be before the dirt and grime. She looked like a normal girl, and not like some vagrant moppet.

Well, still a bit of a moppet, but at least now she wasn't a filthy and starved one.

It's a start. She thought, a hint of a small sad smile playing about her lips.


© Copyright 2015 L.D.R. (lorddreadraven at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/2050387