Throwaway Girl by Kristine Scarrow

and Stephanie’s flippant attitude towards my belongings.
    I think of the pain of losing Luke and Shelley and how robbed I feel. I think of how each day feels meaningless. I even think of the fact that Stephanie is right. They aren’t coming back. Ever. But I must still hold onto everything we had. I must believe that even though they were taken from me, I was worthy of them. Because if I don’t, I may never survive.

Chapter 15
    T he first night in my new apartment is the hardest. It has taken only minutes to unpack the few things I have and when I’m done, the place feels empty and cold. I set my shoebox on the floor next to my bed. The walls are bare except for the framed photo of everyone at Haywood, and I glance at it several times. It is taking me a while to get used to the sounds in the building. It is eerily quiet, and when there is a noise, I jump in alarm.
    There’s a convenience store and a grocery store just a couple of blocks away so I can pick up things I need easily. I’ve bought some food staples, but because of the meager budget, it isn’t much. I’m grateful that I know how to cook. One of the first things I do is make myself a hot meal, which I set on my lap in the armchair in my living room. I made myself noodles and sauce and baked some fresh biscuits. I savour each bite, knowing that Shelley would be proud of me for this moment. She always wanted me to dream big and do well. And though this wouldn’t have been dreaming big in her eyes, I know she’d think it was a pretty big deal that I was surviving and taking care of myself.
    While I’d always enjoyed some level of privacy at Haywood, even being amongst so many others, living on my own is hard. Something about coming home to a barren, empty apartment each day reminds me of my days with my mother, Jacqueline, when I was little. I spent hours on my own back then, learning to decipher the sounds outside our small apartment. I’d try to entertain myself by singing and dancing, or by drawing pictures on any papers I could find. Now here I am, almost ten years later, resorting to the same things to keep myself company, except it doesn’t feel comforting to me. It almost felt haunting, like I have come full circle with my past.
    I will never be you, Jacqueline, I keep repeating to myself. I will never be part of that life again . It might be part promise, part aspiration, but I am determined to make more of my life and leave the ugliness of my past behind. So many people have come in and out of my life. So few of them I have loved. So few of them have ever loved me.
    In a few short days Trina will be moving in. She is ecstatic about it. She is already packed, at least that’s what she said last time we talked. Although my apartment is only a one bedroom, we’ll be putting another bed beside mine and we’ll share the bedroom. With Trina’s meager belongings, we’ll still have lots of space.
    Trina also has a new job, working at a jeans retailer nearby. Although she is still in school, she only attends part-time. She kinda decided she was done with school a long time ago. How she got the job was beyond me, though I’d never tell her that. Even though Trina’s appearance has softened over time, she still looks pretty rough around the edges. She hardly conjures up the image of courteous sales assistant providing superior customer service, but I know Trina and there’s so much more to her than meets the eye.
    Trina can’t wait to get started. She’s already planning which clothes she can buy on payday with her employee discount. I’ve tried telling her that there won’t be a lot of money left over after living expenses, but she seems to think she’ll be hitting the jackpot making minimum wage at an entry level job.
    Work at McDonald’s has been good so far. At first, it was overwhelming trying to learn all the rules of the job. On my first shift I was trained