God Bless The Child
Jan. 1st, 2010 04:35 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
a_time_slipNote: These fics are from a prompt in another community. This details some of the events that happened 500 years in Janie's Past. I have no idea if I'll ever finish them or not, but hey. Here you go!
God Bless The Child - Billie Holiday.
Them thats got shall get
Them thats not shall lose
So the Bible said and it still is news
Mama may have, papa may have
But God bless the child thats got his own
Thats got his own
Yes, the strong gets more
While the weak ones fade
Empty pockets dont ever make the grade
Mama may have, papa may have
But God bless the child thats got his own
Thats got his own
Money, youve got lots of friends
Crowding round the door
When youre gone, spending ends
They dont come no more
Rich relations give
Crust of bread and such
You can help yourself
But dont take too much
Mama may have, papa may have
But God bless the child thats got his own
Thats got his own
Mama may have, papa may have
But God bless the child thats got his own
Thats got his own
He just worry bout nothin
Cause hes got his own
Heavy bass notes caused the tacky, overpriced knick knacks to vibrate on the walls as the young woman crawled under her bed to search for something. The sound of laughter made her to pause for a second before sliding completely into her improvised hiding spot.
A woman less than twenty years younger than herself walked into the room, with an older gentleman- If you could call him that. They laughed together about something, the woman walking towards where Janie kept her things. The younger woman had several small bills taped to the back of dresser drawer. The woman went right for it and handed it to the man. Both laughed again and kissed before walking out of the room.
Janie's heart sank. That was part of the money she'd saved and her mother just took it for who knows what. Something thumped, and a black vase with gilded edges fell to the floor, breaking into several uneven pieces. There was money under her bed- not much, but enough to get out and start again. Eighty three dollars to be exact.
It was still there, between the box spring and the bed frame. Now all she had to do was pack a small bag and slip out during the seemingly never-ending party. That part seemed to go quickly, until she got to the door. Her mother, that insisted on having her daughter call her Ella, stopped Janie with slurred speech and explained she was going to get more beet. A single dollar bill was pressed in her hand and she was shoved out of the door.
A little wandering, and soon she was checked into a hostel- right where she'd started all those months ago. Working three jobs and saving every available penny, she had been able to get a small apartment. When her mother managed to find her, she immediately moved in and started borrowing. Janie didn't stop her, and kept working, hoping to get something more stable.
That didn't happen, and soon she needed to ask her mother if she could borrow some of the money that had been loaned to her. Her mother loaned her small amounts, and took more and more of her already small paychecks, claiming groceries and increased bills that needed to be paid.
It was the night of the party that she decided to leave. That was far from the from the first such party her mother had, and it wouldn't be the last. The so called gentleman was with her mother, the same man who walked in all hours drunk, confusing mother for daughter then complaining when Janie slapped him. The Hostel was safe from him and her, and any other party attendees.
Two days later, her mother called her and asked when she would return. She also wanted ten dollars back for the beer but Janie informed her that she was broke.
There would be no more phone calls for two weeks, by which time she managed a better hiding spot and a more convincing claim of lack of funds. In a rare moment of generosity, Ella offered to buy a few groceries for her daughter. It wasn't more than a few meals, but Janie thanked the woman repeatedly. After that, she was on her own again.
That's where she was now, searching for an apartment, somewhere that was her own.
God Bless The Child - Billie Holiday.
Them thats got shall get
Them thats not shall lose
So the Bible said and it still is news
Mama may have, papa may have
But God bless the child thats got his own
Thats got his own
Yes, the strong gets more
While the weak ones fade
Empty pockets dont ever make the grade
Mama may have, papa may have
But God bless the child thats got his own
Thats got his own
Money, youve got lots of friends
Crowding round the door
When youre gone, spending ends
They dont come no more
Rich relations give
Crust of bread and such
You can help yourself
But dont take too much
Mama may have, papa may have
But God bless the child thats got his own
Thats got his own
Mama may have, papa may have
But God bless the child thats got his own
Thats got his own
He just worry bout nothin
Cause hes got his own
Heavy bass notes caused the tacky, overpriced knick knacks to vibrate on the walls as the young woman crawled under her bed to search for something. The sound of laughter made her to pause for a second before sliding completely into her improvised hiding spot.
A woman less than twenty years younger than herself walked into the room, with an older gentleman- If you could call him that. They laughed together about something, the woman walking towards where Janie kept her things. The younger woman had several small bills taped to the back of dresser drawer. The woman went right for it and handed it to the man. Both laughed again and kissed before walking out of the room.
Janie's heart sank. That was part of the money she'd saved and her mother just took it for who knows what. Something thumped, and a black vase with gilded edges fell to the floor, breaking into several uneven pieces. There was money under her bed- not much, but enough to get out and start again. Eighty three dollars to be exact.
It was still there, between the box spring and the bed frame. Now all she had to do was pack a small bag and slip out during the seemingly never-ending party. That part seemed to go quickly, until she got to the door. Her mother, that insisted on having her daughter call her Ella, stopped Janie with slurred speech and explained she was going to get more beet. A single dollar bill was pressed in her hand and she was shoved out of the door.
A little wandering, and soon she was checked into a hostel- right where she'd started all those months ago. Working three jobs and saving every available penny, she had been able to get a small apartment. When her mother managed to find her, she immediately moved in and started borrowing. Janie didn't stop her, and kept working, hoping to get something more stable.
That didn't happen, and soon she needed to ask her mother if she could borrow some of the money that had been loaned to her. Her mother loaned her small amounts, and took more and more of her already small paychecks, claiming groceries and increased bills that needed to be paid.
It was the night of the party that she decided to leave. That was far from the from the first such party her mother had, and it wouldn't be the last. The so called gentleman was with her mother, the same man who walked in all hours drunk, confusing mother for daughter then complaining when Janie slapped him. The Hostel was safe from him and her, and any other party attendees.
Two days later, her mother called her and asked when she would return. She also wanted ten dollars back for the beer but Janie informed her that she was broke.
There would be no more phone calls for two weeks, by which time she managed a better hiding spot and a more convincing claim of lack of funds. In a rare moment of generosity, Ella offered to buy a few groceries for her daughter. It wasn't more than a few meals, but Janie thanked the woman repeatedly. After that, she was on her own again.
That's where she was now, searching for an apartment, somewhere that was her own.