disclaimer: If I do own them, somebody really has to pay up. . .

rating: PG

Summary: Seven year old Maria waits out another of her parent's fights. . .

Spoilers: None

Category: M/M, Other

They took me away again today. Stupid social services. I hate to stay at the orphanage. It's lonely here without Mom and Dad. But they were fighting again today. And when they fight really bad like tonight, the social service people come to take me away. At least I'll be able to go home tomorrow. And at least I don't have to listen to the rest of the fight. It will be over by the time I get to go home.

Mom and Dad are always fighting. They fight about everything; about money and the shop and me. But they always make up in the end. Always. It's just that they are so super loud, it scares the neighbors. Especially my mom. My mom is the loudest person I know. She has this really loud voice that can be heard for a block when she gets really angry. She yells the loudest about scanks. Scanks are really bad, mean monster women who my dad knows. My mom really hates scanks.

That's what Mom was yelling about today. She was yelling about the evil scank woman who got my dad to work for her. He went over to her house and fell on top of her or something when Mom went over to bring him his tool belt. Dad can't work without his tools, but he went to work without them anyways. Mom was pretty mad when she found his tools on a chair, and even left me all alone in the house to go bring them to him.

My dad's a handyman. Dad is the guy people hire when they want new shelves in the kitchen or a window put into a wall. He also makes furniture. I bet that at least half of the people in Roswell has bought a table or some chairs from Dad. He works all the time in the garage and comes inside smelling like cedar wood. I like the smell of cedar.

This place sort of smells like cedar. My dad made some of the beds and benches in this place. I always make sure to get a bed that Dad made when I come here. It makes me feel like he is here with me. It's very lonely without Mom and Dad here.

I really should feel lucky though. Most of the kids here don't have a home to go to. They actually live here, because they don't have moms or dads. They really are all alone. Not just for the night like me. It makes me feel really bad, to see how they look at me when I leave. They all kinda hate me here because of it. Because I get to go home.

"Oh, look who's back. It's DADDY'S Girl!" I turn away from the TV. There's a big boy standing behind me. Tommy Leggot. I bet he's at least ten years old. I'm only seven and small for my age, but I'm not scared of him.

"Shut up, Dog Breath!" I glare my best death glare at him. The one Mom used on Dad tonight. I can be very scary for just a little kid. "Go eat your stinky boogers!" Suddenly, I'm falling off the chair. My head hits the carpet hard, leaving a scrap on my chin. I roll over and glower at Tommy.

Tommy stands over me, his fists all balled up. Other kids come to stand all around us, laughing at me. Nobody ever tries to help me here. "Why don't you make me, Little Miss Muffet?" Suddenly, he falls down, and I have to roll away to keep from being crushed.

"Leave her alone!" I look up at the new boy. I haven't met this one yet. He must have just moved in here, since I was here last week. He is pretty tall too, with messy brown hair. He looks really mad. Tommy gets up beside me.

"Mind your business, Pea Brain! Why don't you go cry to your social worker, Monkey Lips!" The boys start to fight really badly. The new kid doesn't really hit back. Like he's afraid to. I jump on Tommy's back.

"Leave'em alone, Dumbo!" Tommy falls backwards to the floor on top of me. The new kid pulls him off of me as the social workers come in to stop the fight. They take us all by the arms and drag us into the halls. They are all talking in their angry voices, but I don't pay attention. I just wish that my dad was here to really beat up Tommy for me.

The social workers plop me and the new kid down on a bench and take Tommy into the office. I look at the other boy. He has bruises coming out all over his face and his nose is bleeding a little. I take the edge of my sleeve and start to dab at the blood. He pulls away from me quickly.

"What do you think you're doing?" He glares at me. I glare back at him.

"You're nose is bleeding."

He touches his face, and his eyes widen when his fingers get all bloody. "Oh." He hangs his head down low and stares at his feet. Suddenly, I feel kinda sorry that he got hurt.

I edge myself beside him. He tries to move away until he reaches the end of the bench. I smile at him and put my arm around his shoulder. He looks at me out of the corner of his eye, and I kiss him on the forehead. "Thank you." He looks at me, all surprised and speechless. He blinks his eyes really fast and tries to talk, but his tongue just won't work.

"Michael." We turn to the office. The social worker is waiting for him at the door. I smile at him as he gets up and walks away.

After we all get yelled at for fighting, the social workers make us all apologize to each other for fighting. None of us are really sorry, but we do it anyways. Tommy and the new kid get taken to the boys room, and I get taken to the girls room. All the other girls are already in bed. The only ones left are made of oak. The social workers tuck me into a bed. My daddy didn't make this one. I can feel tears running down my cheeks.

I don't want to sleep in this bed. It isn't special. Dad didn't make it, so I can't pretend that I am at home, in my own bed. It doesn't even feel right. Beds should never be made of oak. Eventually, I cry myself to sleep, but it feels like forever.

~*~*~

I wake up when I feel a hand on my shoulder. It takes me a minute, but I realize where I am. I lift my head up and look around me. There are rows of empty beds on each side of me, and my social worker, Mrs. Martin, is sitting on the edge of the bed.

"It's time to get up, Maria. You're mother's come to get you." I look up at her. Mrs. Martin looks away from me quickly and plays with the edge of her shirt. "Come on, it's time to wash up."

Everyone leaves the bathroom once I walk inside, but I don't really care. I put my overnight bag on the edge of the sink and start to clean myself up. I wash my hands and face until my skin glows like Mom's. I make sure my hair isn't too messed up from sleeping, and change out of my nightgown. I don't realize that everything is different until I go for breakfast.

Nobody will look me in the face. Everyone's avoiding me. Not that I have any friends here, but it's weird. None of the girls are throwing things at me, none of the boys are pulling my hair, nobody's doing anything. Except stare when my back is turned. I'm glad my mom and dad are coming soon.

I sit on the steps outside of the orphanage. My mom always says it's stupid to bring me here. I think she's right. Some kids get to stay with friends or family when they get taken away for the night, but not me. Stupid social service. But at least I get to go home soon, and everything will be normal.

I watch all the kids run around outside. I try not to be upset that they don't ask me to play too, but it hurts my feelings. They're like one big family. Maybe when I get home, I'll ask Mom and Dad for a brother. Maybe they can even adopt that new kid who keeps looking at me from the branches of that tree there. The one who punched Tommy for me. What's his name again? Marshall? Mitchell? Michael? Aw, it doesn't matter. I'll find him.

I see Mom's old Gremlin pull into the driveway. I pick up my bag and run over to the car. "MOM! DAD!" But as I get closer to the car, I stop. Dad's not there. And Mom is crying against the steering wheel. "Mom? Momma?"

Mom lifts her head off of the wheel and looks at me. When she manages to look me in the eyes, I know. My daddy's gone. "No," I whisper. My voice sounds all shaky. Mom gets out of the car.

"Maria, honey, I - " She tries to touch my arm, but I pull away.

"NO! No, no, no, no, no!" I run away from my mom towards the orphanage. But I don't get very far. A pair of arms grab me from behind. The person smells like cedar. But the person is too small to be my dad. How dare they smell like cedar? I turn around to hit that stupid person who dares to smell like cedar and look into a pair of brown eyes. It's that new kid again. I was going to hit him, but for some reason I hug him instead.

"No." I bury my face in his shirt as my mom pulls me out of his arms. "I want my daddy! I want my daddy!" I cry as Mom carries me to the car. Suddenly, I want to go back to the orphanage. Because now I never ever have to go back. Because there won't be anymore fights to scare the neighbors. And I know that my house won't smell like cedar for very long now that my dad's gone.

Mom puts me in the front seat and buckles me in. I always wanted to sit in the front seat, but there was always two parents to sit in the front before. Suddenly, I want to sit in the back more than anything. I want to be crushed between an inflatable alien and a spice rack again. I want my daddy.

I watch the other kids watch me as my mom drives away. They don't look like they hate me anymore.

Back to Area 51 (Section II)