Money wasn’t the currency here. The currency was food. Specifically food from the outside. You wanted a favor? You paid for it in chicken nuggets and type 2 diabetes.
Her heart had sunk. It was an impossible request. Black market trading she had learned, was for kids who had parents and visitors. Her visitors had dried up long ago when the awkwardness of sitting in silence had become too much to bear for them. Then they sent letters. But now, even those had stopped some months ago.
Visitors, contraband, and chicken nuggets were the farthest thing from Ella’s mind. “Small steps.” and “Divide and conquer” was Rose’s advice to her. If she focused on conquering small goals, she wouldn’t feel so overwhelmed with her slow progress. Her small goal now was that damn sky blue crayon across the room. If no one was coming to help her and telekinetic powers (or lack of) didn’t help, she’d just have to get up and get it herself. She wasn’t allowed out of bed, but rules be damned.
She had made it halfway there, but froze when Rose opened the door. Ella knew she was in trouble when Rose pulled out her green key chain of a flip-flop and shook it at her before chasing her back into bed. Rose had begun muttering under her breath in Spanish. Ella didn’t have to be bi-lingual to understand what she meant. “If I had a real sandal; i’d smack you with it.”
“I see you’ve made yourself at home.”
Ella was brought back to the present to find Danielle leaning against the doorframe staring at her spread out nearly naked on the bed. She was miserable and modestly was the furthest priority at the moment.
“Here” she heard before something landed next to her on the bed. “Mom told me to tell you to drink it.” Ella reached out her hand and groped blindly until it landed on something cold. Instead of drinking it, she drew it into a hug keeping it pressed against her chest.
“You hot or something? It’s kind of cold in here.” Danielle remarked. Ella was flabbergasted. Cold? It had to be a 100 degrees in here at least. Ella nodded, pulling at an imaginary collar around her neck. She heard the window slide open. Although there was no breeze, she found the fresh air to be refreshing.
“Oh man! Does it itch?” Danielle asked. Ella opened her eyes again and found Danielle hovering over her and examining her body as one would something gross, yet oddly fascinating. Ella nodded again before flipping on her stomach and burying her face in her pillow. She didn’t feel like trying to communicate. She just wanted to be left alone- that was until she felt fingernails begin to run up and down her back. She quickly decided she didn’t mind the company after all. In child black market standards, this kind of service would have cost her an M&m Mcflurry easily.
She had almost managed to fall asleep when Heather’s angry voice from the doorway made both of them jump. Her heart hammered and she could feel the pull-up between her legs growing wet. “What do you think you’re doing?!” What little peace and relaxation she had been able to obtain was gone in the blink of an eye.
Danielle sat on the edge of Ella’s bed stammering. “Huh? Wha-”
“Look at her back! It’s full of finger nail scratches!”
“Sh-She said she was itchy! I- I was just trying to make her feel better!”
“I’m supposed to keep her from scratching! I send you up with a bottle of water and find you’ve taken what looks like razor blades to her back. What do you think CPS is going to say if they see that?”
“I-I didn’t know! I’m sorry!”
“Don’t you ever think before you act?” Heather snapped.