She knew what to do when all seemed hopeless. She began to pray and center herself into the world she belongs. In no time she was shot out into the air. She had an instinct within that allowed her to land on her two tired feet still swallowed by two large clown shoes. Becky knew she had to find her way into the apartment, no one told her if the keys were there, or with the owners. As she walked up to the door, she saw a note: Miss Becky, your keys are in the house already, on the counter. Please know this is a hard job we want you to fulfill tomorrow, so please get plenty of rest, drink lots of water and eat something. We left you a cold pizza in the fridge. Signed Sara Jones. Becky quickly went into her apartment, seeing the boxes and books. She wanted to run around and see the whole place, but her bones and muscles called her. She grabbed the pillows all around the room and made herself a place on the floor. It was as far as she could walk. How she longed for a comfortable bed, but this would do for now. In no time she was deeply asleep.
The door opened slowly. A woman walked sniffing the air as she came into the room. Her eyes scanned the room and her mind screamed. This place was disgusting, full of junk boxes and ugly trunks. This horrid pack of bottle water made her feel ill. How could anyone drink from that plastic? She saw the young lady on the floor, but had to let her mind stop on the fact that all her precious pillows were scattered all over the floor. How dare that scamp think I would allow that kind of living? She wanted to do something.
She walked closer to the child and stared at her. She had a strong desire to pull the pillows out from under her and take them home to the family; she hated pillows on the floor! Those shoes, they smelled horrible. Then she realized it was the young girl that made the room smell so strong.
This alarmed her beyond logic. She grabbed the pillows out from under and on top of Becky. As the poor child was so deeply embedded in a family story of comfort, she had no clue that she was lying on the floor with nothing around her.
She began to curl up into a small ball to keep herself warm as she and dad jumped into the lake with cannonball jumps. She always won and knew why; she was the owner of the dream.
The mean lady grumbled as she struggled to keep the pillows in her arms. As she walked out the door, with words of dishonor, she spoke about a young girl she had seen shivering as she left.
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