||Short Stories||

I lived in a world of negativity and famine but I, Catherine Rossford, thrive to bring light thoughts to the glooming world around me. I’ve always been a small kid, a bit of an extrovert as well, but never been at the top of the school. My grades were always below average and my looks were so plain. The same brown hair and brown eyes that everyone had. Both of my parents worked hard just to earn enough money to feed me and my two brothers. We were in the start of the 1900’s when I started elementary school.

My eldest brother, Jack, was in the 4 at the time I was birthed and already the leader of the pack of toddlers in our small neighborhood. My younger brother Luke had not been born at the time. We were all filthy rich and living in one of the nicest neighborhoods in Virginia. As the 20th century continued, our wealth became boring and over exaggerated. Everyone used the statement that my family was rich when introducing us to other people. People often banged on our front door to ask for money.

President Taft was on our side all the years of my childhood, sending the wealthiest families all the extra money to fund our private spas and luxurious cars, sometimes illegally streaming money through hobos and other low-grade people. But once the stock market crashed, we lost everything. We sold our house for as much as we could and put all out our furniture to sale. Right about then, Luke was born on our kitchen table. Now our kitchen was shared by several other families who lived in the same crowded tenement as we did.

There was something about Luke that none of us could point out. He seemed...different. He didn’t cry with all the other kids, he didn’t play with the same baby toys or chew on a pacifier. As he got older, we discovered that he had an unsettling obsession for science and math, even before he was old enough for school. My friends always joked about him being the next biggest scientist but I never paid much attention to it.

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Flash forward to 8 years in the future:
“Mom!” I yelled, with strain in my voice, “where are you?”

Our tenement building was set on fire, and Luke and I were standing on the street with our bare feet and ashy hair watching and crying as our building started crumbling down. We had already watched Jack and Dad both get eaten by the fire and we knew that we couldn’t lose mom. The people on the streets watched carefully and made sure to not get too close, some were running for buckets of water on others just stood and watched with their jaw hanging wide open.

No. The firemen already carried everyone out of the tenement building and my mother never even showed up. She was gone, leaving me and Luke together. I couldn’t take care of Luke, I couldn’t even take care of myself, I’m only 9! Luke was 6, just stepped foot onto the kindergarten turf with worry constantly laced into his forehead. Luke was still as child, and for the most part, so was I.
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Flash forward to 14 years later:
“Luke!” I screamed. I was going to be late to my job. I was 23 and working in the Triangle Shirtwaist Factory (JcPenney is a shop in the USA that started around this time period) Luke was 19 and a sales retailer at JcPenney. Luke and I lived together and helped each other with financial issues, and spirit issues. I was wearing my stained shirtwaist and the same brown skirt that I wore everyday, we couldn’t afford new things but occasionally splurged on a rose or pound cake.

We lived with another family with two kids. Senora Riaz and Senor Riaz charged us a $3 a week rent for us to live with them. Their two kids, Ricardo and Isabella were angels, straight to Jesus himself. Although I loved living in an actual house, I loathed Senor and Senora Riaz. They never provided us with the respect that even a stranger would lend us.

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Excitement bathed around me as I stood outside the Shirtwaist Factory, holding up a sign that read “Hope is Action” I’ve been picketing for a few months now and while I haven’t been making any money, Luke has become the CEO of JcPenney. Our lives have been enriched in ample amounts of food and lots of new clothing. About half of Luke’s paycheck goes to all the girls who I picket with, allowing them to buy food and more coats for winter. The weather has been getting colder as November slipped by us.

The police occasionally pull up to the curb and start harassing some of us girls, telling us that we are causing traffic and promoting chaos. But we tried to stay still and remain calm, pretending that the police weren’t even there. Out of the 100 other people standing with me, about 30 of them were crying.

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“And I declare that all businesses require workers to work no more than 12 hours in one day,” President Taft boomed into the open air of the room we were in. People started cheering merrily as I started weeping with pride enriched in my smile. I couldn’t believe that we won. I am ecstatic, possibly happy enough to act like a little girl again.

Once I get back to the apartment Luke and I live in, I drop my bag to the floor and rush to the worn sofa. A hand covers my mouth and a knife in pushes into my stomach.

Luke?

Notes

I had no idea where this was going when I started so please forgive me if this sucks balls. I won't be updating this book often, only whenever I have time to write Thanks for reading and I hope i didn't bore y'all to death

Isabel