The Summer Job ~ Andy Biersack *Completed

--Baylie’s POV—

I jumped awake, the screaming of a crow lifting me from my heavy sleep. Still slightly startled, I stared up at the off-white ceiling for a moment or two. I knew I didn’t have the luxury of lingering in bed and I’d surely pay for it later, but it felt so nice to lounge under the soft white covers. I heard my mother’s soft snore and dragged myself from the mattress on the ground, sitting on the edge of it for a moment or two before finally rising to my feet. We had leftover food I could eat for breakfast, and I should bring some to mother before her morning sickness kicks in. She’d gone to the doctor’s the other day; a taxi came and picked her up. I hadn’t heard much about how it went, for she was very weary and upset by the time she returned. The thought had stayed with me all night of what the doctor may have told her. She promised to tell me today, when she was feeling better. I picked at the bland food, but ate it all for I was quite
hungry and hadn’t eaten anything last night. I continued to nibble away at the small ration until I heard her dry cough, signaling me she was finally awake. I poured some water from the jug over my bowl and placed it back on the shelf. I filled another bowl with noodles and brought it to her bedside. She looked paler and sicker every day, and today was no different.

Her wispy brown hair was greasy and thin, and the skin at her scalp was flaking like a lizard’s in the sun. Her under-eyes were pale and green and looked heavy, as if there was too much skin building up on her cheeks. She looked older than she was, and very very tired. Not to mention the thin, forked lines at either corner of her thin lips from frowning so often. “Good morning mother.” I said with a wry smile, placing the bowl on her lap. “Good morning Baylie.” She smiled, wrinkles breaking out all over her skin as she moved. I sat down at the end of her bed. “How are you feeling?” I asked. She took a bite of her noodles before responding, “Not better. The doctors prescribed me medicine but…it’s far beyond our budget.” Her voice was crackling and dry. I frowned to myself, tucking loose strands of hair behind my ear and staring down at the cement ground. “Would it help you if you got it?” I asked quietly. She only nodded and
continued to eat. “I’ll find a way to get it.” I said, looking back at her and smiling slightly. She shook her head with a light chuckle. “Oh Baylie, there’s no way we can afford it. Don’t worry.” But I shook my head. “I’ll find a way, mother. If it will help you, we’ll get it.” There were a few measures I hadn’t yet taken that I could always resort to if I got desperate, and now that we’ve finally found something to help her I could use them. I’ve got some savings I’d had for when I planned to move out, and I still haven’t had sex…However, I was trying not to use any of those. Perhaps pick-pocketing would be enough. But inside, I knew it wouldn’t. I would need to do something drastic if we wanted to get the medicine on time. She chuckled a little and continued to eat. Mother kept good spirits throughout the horrible pain she was feeling, I knew. “Now go on, Baylie. I don’t want you seeing me so ill.”She said. I would have protested, but I knew it made her feel better to be alone. She didn’t want me to see her so old.

I set out on the streets, eyeing up the crowd for anyone with a purse within easy reach. My eyes locked on a tall woman sitting outside a restraunt, her satchel hanging loosely on the back of her chair. She would make a good target. I sidestepped through the crowd ad under the shelter of the restraunt’s patio. And then I waited. I waited and waited and waited. Finally, the woman and her friend went inside to pay, leaving their purses on the table. I quickly walked aside them, snatching them up and tucking them under my shirt. I disappeared into the crowd.

I repeated this pattern all day, weaving in and out of large crowds and back and forth from home to streets, home to streets. I’d only managed about 9 purses and one wallet. A wallet is what I’m really going for, because it has the most valuable stuff. But at least in purses I get a couple things for myself. I hurried into my mothers room.
“Mother, I’ve got $329 from work, I’ve asked them to pay me extra and…they did.” I lied. But she was too light-headed to notice. She was staring right at me but didn’t speak a word.
“Mother?” I asked, approaching her. She wasn’t dead, I saw her chest moving. I knelt down to her level. She kept her head forward, staring.
“Mother?” I repeated. She jumped up slightly and shot her glaze towards me. “What?” She said snappily. I shook my head. “Nothing.”
That was when I knew $329 was not enough. It wasn’t even close. My mother was very, very ill and no $329 is making any difference.I won’t be able to get her enough on time at this rate. It’s only my first day trying and I know. In the pit ofmy gut, I could feel the hopeless sensation sinking my heart. I set back out on the sidewalk, strolling the neighborhood just so I could breathe. Her ‘zoning out’ was a way of her body shutting off for a minute, like seizures almost. I’d heard her talk about it on the phone. It was because everything in her body was over-active, which made her exhausted all the time. Even speaking could be difficult. I felt tears in my eyes as I lingered on the subject, but blinked them away. I looked at where I’d ended up; the manor.
It was huge, made of smooth white stone. The front was a long, marble terrace shaded by a stone overhang. It was all supported by columns. Black tiles made up the roof. There were flowers and cleverly-shaped hedges all about the front of the house. Vines grew around the doorway, but in a neat and orderly manner. Long glass windows lined up symmetrically, giving viewers a peek of the inside. It was a marvelous piece of architecture, and once you see it you’d understand why someone would pay so much to live there. It really was a manor. On either side of the doorway was a sculpted lion, laying down yet roaring and chortling aggressively. My hands fondled the leaves of the perfectly trimmed hedges, feeling the twigs prodding my fingertips. I unconsciously walked further up the porch, my hands tracing patterns in the smooth marble. Before I knew it, I was standing at the doorway looking inside. I could feel the cool air seeping through the window.
I knew what I was doing was wrong; I shouldn’t have even ventured on the porch. But the house was so beautiful and so neat compared to my small shack. It all looked so comfortable. Everything inside was so expensive…Perhaps it wouldn’t hurt if I just took a few things. Maybe some things to sell and some things to keep around the house. They wouldn’t miss them, would they? But before I could think twice, I had already walked around the side and let myself through the back door.

Notes

I hope you all enjoy :D Leave me some comments? Tell me what you think! Anyhoo, have a nice week.