How to be a gold digger

Chapter two

Chloe was nine years old when she watched her father blow out her mother's brain from the head. She had never had an average family. Her father was an abusive drunk, while her mother was a prostitute. The life that other people were blessed with was not hers to have. So when her father was imprisoned, it was decided that she would be placed in foster care. Because none of her relatives wanted to be associated with her.

She hid behind the director of the foster care home as they introduced her.

"Please be patient with her. Chloe is a bit shy" she peeked through the legs of the director and saw the children who were sitting in the common room. Most of them were older than her. Of the few who weren't playing their video game or talking with their friends, it had only been the little boy in front with blue eyes and blond hair that stared at her with intensity. He was older than her by 2 years. He had small holes in his trousers, Chloe observed as he dipped his hands in his pocket.

"You all her dismissed, thank you," the director said before she bent down to talk to Chloe.

"This is a safe space," the director whispered to her, and Chloe nodded

"You are going to make a lot of friends here," and again, Chloe replied with a nod

"So, if you have any trouble." the woman pointed to the door with a printed name in front of it.

"Come to me. I will always be in my office."

"Yes, ma," Chloe responded.

But Chloe didn't make friends that week, the following week, or the week after. Not even the little boy of that day had approached her. The next week she started hearing people whisper at her back after she had passed.

"Hey, Chloe! What were you doing when your dad blew your mom's brains out? Sleeping?"

Nicky said as Chloe passed with the trail of food in her hands. She started to shake upon hearing the words of her mother that day.

"Stay in the cupboard. You know when daddy gets drunk, the bad man comes out."

Her mom said as she locked the kitchen door.

"Come here, you b***h!" her father shouted. He drags her mother by the hair and hits her head against the table in the bedroom. Her mother was a good person. Her only two flaws were using her body to earn money and marrying her father. That was the demise of Francesca Martini.

"Stop it, Chloe is here!" her mom begged.

"Like I care what that bastard thinks."

Chloe held on to her chest with the painful words her father said.

"She is your daughter" Francesca pushed his hands away from her hair and drew away from him.

"Not when you been hoeing your way around Manhattan."

"I do it for you and my daughter. Maybe if you had gotten a decent job, I would not have to spread my legs for any man that throws me money!!"

Francesca screamed and pointed fingers at Derek. Immediately Derek pulled out his gun, which he had hidden behind his pocket,

"Please," Francesca begged. But at that moment, she also wished to be free. Free of the life that she had been given. Maybe it was Derek's way of answering her when he had fired the gun.

Chloe screamed at the sound of the gun. She rushed out. Her little hands first touched the blood flowing on the floor. Her father eyes laced with a shock that his daughter had seen him kill her mother. He ran to her, hugging her, mumbling the words sorry repeatedly till the police had carried him away.

The neighbor who had heard the gunshot had called the police. Only if they called a bit early when they heard shouting, maybe Francesca would still be alive. Or only if they had called when they noticed the bruises on her eyes the first time her husband started to hit her, maybe Chloe's life would not have been this way. So many possibilities, yet there had been only one outcome.

Chloe fell the trail on the ground and ran out of the cafeteria. The wind carried her tears as she ran. She ran till she was sure that no one could see her weeping. Her father was not a bad man, she told herself. Life was just cruel to her family.

"I am sorry about Nicky," the little blond boy spoke when she was done crying. She raised her head up, alarmed to see someone there. She removed her eyes from him. But unfortunately, he was a little too late to start talking to her.

"Go away," she whispered.

"You need to leave the ground; you would stain your dress."

"I don't care" she did not care about the dress given to her in this stupid foster home. She hated this place. She wanted to go home. It was not that home was any better, but she craved something that did not feel like she was caged.

She felt a presence sitting beside her; she turned to the little boy.

"What about your own dress?"

"It does not matter," he replied while she scoffed.

She looked at the ground and watched the ants gather their own food. It must be nice, as an animal, to be free.

"Everyone here has had a traumatic life. They are just using yours to make theirs feel better."

"Why?" he nudged his shoulder. Chloe looked at him

"Why," she asked again.

"Because life hurts a little less when other people are in more pain than you are."

"Do you hurt less knowing your life is better than mine?"

"No, I never want to see a cute girl as you cry."

Chloe blushed.

She cleaned her hand on her dress and stretched out to shake him.

"My name is Chloe."

"Kaden," he returned the handshake with a smile.

"Friends?" Chloe asked

"Always," he replied.

That was the beginning of C and K, a story that has not yet ended.