Saturday 11/7
Standing in front of the rather ancient looking building somewhere in Brooklyn was probably a bad idea. Even more so because this side of town looked like it had seen better days. Much better days. It was a shame how some of the areas in Brooklyn were still so... Broken and dirty. Even more of a shame that this was this was a government building.
‘Brooklyn Foster are’ was engraved onto a wooden plaque on the side of the brick building. That was the only signage on the entire building, the only factor, that let people know what was going on in the inside of this three story barely historical building. Winnie could only assume there was suppose to be a ‘C’ before the ‘are’ on the sign, but someone must of scratched it off or heck, stolen it! Graffiti was scrawled on the plaque and the building itself. Who knows how many kids had wanted that C?
Winnie’s eyes were drawn to the black cursive spray painted words, along the side of one of the nearby windows. ‘Broken Kids Enter, Shattered Hearts Leave.’
She stares at those words for much longer then she cares to admit but she shakes her head and finally steels her face.
Winnie was wearing a thick black sweater with blue and white checkered sleeves. Jeans with holes and pink converse sneakers. She held onto the broken bag, her broken bag that only had the top handle. Shoulder straps broken, all kinds of patches and stains on it. She held onto that top handle with one hand, her other hand in the front pocket of her sweater. Her hood pulled up to hide her pink hair. Looking up at the building with that stern look.
“Game time.” She whispers to herself, and goes into the nearest alleyway that shared a wall with the Foster Building. She leans her bag against the wall, between a dumpster and a trashcan. She kneels down and pulls out a wig, a set of bobby pins, a rubber chicken, some cheap looking black flip flops, and a ruler. No glitter bombs today.
She puts the wig on. Gone was the pink hair to be replaced by a black wig inspired by Wednesday Adams. Black, with braided pigtails. She stuffs the rest of the items into her front pocket, minus the ruler that gets tucked up her sleeve. She takes a couple steps back, looking at the windows to make sure all the blinds were drawn. She goes to the corner and waits. Leaving her bag there.
Only a half hour passes before a van pulls up. The door opens and it’s like a clown car! Half a dozen kids pile out. Each one different, some looking happy, others looking depressed. Young, some teens on the cusp of adulthood. A much older overweight woman gets out the drivers seat, a cigarette hanging from her lip as she corals the kids into the building and when their backs are turned and half of them are in, Winnie joins them. Standing in the back and looking around, blending in.
The lobby of the Foster Care building looked like a waiting room in a dusty pediatrics office. Plastic chairs, motivational posters, toys that kids would begrudgingly play with. A receptionists desk with bullet proof glass covering them and the only other door was gated and locked that lead deeper into the building.
“Hey, Charlene.” The lady at the desk greets the overweight woman as the younger of her brood race towards the toys. The older two foster kids linger behind and finally seem to notice Winnie. Giving her skeptical looks, but not saying anything yet.
“Hey, Susan. I brought Derrick for his meet and great.” Charlene’s voice was ravaged by years of smoking, it came out gravely and ill. “Actually, I brought the whole horde. for it.”
Susan laughs, but she doesn’t press the speaker button, so they can only see her image as she leans back. As if that was the funniest thing she had ever heard. Once her fit was over, she pressed the microphone button, “Sure thing! How many badges you need?”
“Seven.” Charlene looks pleased as punch and leans on the counter as Susan walks away. The noisy hum of the printer the giveaway that Susan was busy.
“Who are you?” Winnie looks at the kid who spoke to her. A boy, much, much, taller then her with tan skin and brown hair. His face was riddled with acne and peach fuzz on his upper lip. He looked the short girl up and down, one hand in his pocket the other behind his back.
“Just a foster kid like you.” Winnie replies. It wasn’t a total lie! She looks to the girl, who was only a head taller then Winnie with scraggly brown hair that desperately needed a wash. She wore a dress three sizes too big, made her look lumpy. And her toes stick out of the dirty pair of sneakers she had on her tiny feet. When Winnie meets her eyes, the girl looks away from Winnie’s gaze. “Listen, I need one of your badges when we get in.”
The boy scoffs, “We don’t know you!” Winnie shushes him quickly, looking over to the counter to make sure the adults don’t look over.
Her blue eyes look up to the boy but he speaks up before she can get a word out. “Why do you want to get in anyways? Most kids want to get out.”
A sharp whistle rocks the room and Charlene shouts, “Come get your badges! Come on, come on! I don’t got all day!”
The boy shoves past Winnie and goes to Charlene. Winnie looks to the girl with the scraggly hair, they walk slower over towards Charlene as Winnie whispers into her ear...
They get lost in the confusion of the crowd for a second and the group huddles by the gated door. There’s a long buzz as the gate is unlocked and they all rush through. Charlene standing at the side of the gate ushering all the kids in as the buzzer sounds, not even noticing the additional kid who was with their group. The group of kids all line up by another door but Winnie keeps walking, ducking into the nearest doorway on the opposite side of the hallway. “Badges up! Up! Up!”
Winnie closes the door to the office she was in and presses an ear to the door to listen.
The sound of a door opening and more children laughing, adults talking too, soft sounds of music... But one loud voice speaking more clearly then all of that. “Look at all these fine young sirs and madams! Here for the adoption fair? Let me see your names! Rose! Go right in. Derrick too! George, Tess, Connor, and... Oh, miss your missing your badge!”
“I, uh... Didn’t get one...”
“Tsk... Susan! SUSAN! You missed one!”
As Winnie waits in the dark office for all the adults and kids to file out of the hallway, she pulls out the cheap flip flops from her front pocket and slips them on her now exposed feet. She wiggles her toes, “Adoption fair... How convenient.”
The sound of a heavy poor closing was all Winnie needed to jump up to her feet and peek out of the window. Seeing the coast was clear she puts the lanyard around her neck and checks out the name on the plastic badge at the end. “Thank you, Amanda.” She whispers to herself.
Winnie gives this office a once over, looking at the desk and opening a box that sat on it. She flips through the paperwork and taps the keyboard to the computer. Seeing that the computer wouldn’t even turn on and the paperwork was useless to her, Winnie leaves. She opens the door and then very casually walks out of the office.
She keeps the hood up and her body hunched over as she walks down the hallway, being sure to check out the signage that leads her to a stairwell. Winnie makes it up to the second floor and checks the window again before opening the door.
This doorway lead to a bullpen like area, with desks all over the place but thankfully no humans. Some piled high with paperwork, others clean. All kinds of little nicknacks and personal paraphernalia on the desks as well. A couple more doorways along the side that lead to more offices, so some of the people who worked here could have some privacy.
Winnie creeps along the wall, going to the office door and doing the same thing.
Peek in the window. No humans? Great.
Check the door knob. Door unlocked? Great. Open the door, close the door, move on to the next.
The sneaky teen didn’t even seem interested in the desks in the center of the room or going inside the offices that were unlocked. She goes to each one... Frowning when it opens, and always moving onto the next...
The corner office door is the one that doesn’t open. Winnie almost looks shocked when the knob turns, but the door doesn’t open. She checks around herself again, then pulls out the bobby pins. She kneels in front of the door, squinting at the key hole that was on the door. She runs her hand over the door and then the metal on the lock itself.
“Just a bar lock? I’ve seen better locks in prison...” Winnie kinda scoffs to herself and slips her pins into the key hole. She leans in real close as she works, her ear almost pressed to the door...
The sound of metal scraping gently on the wood of the door is all the signage Winnie needed to know she was successful! She turns the knob again and the door opens without a noise. Winnie hobbles in from her crouched position and closes the door behind herself, sliding the lock back into place as she does so.
This office was spacious! Corner offices tended to be. She stands up right and looks around. Standard as far as offices go, desk, computer, two chairs in front of the desk, a large yet worn sofa in the corner by the bookshelf filled with books on child behavior. Judging by the degrees on the wall behind the desk this was the behavioral therapist office, or psychologist’s office. Too many science and liberal art degrees to be the man in charge, but this would work for now.
Winnie sits in the computer chair and taps the keyboard till the computer springs to life. She lets out a relived breath when she sees the desktop. Someone hadn’t bothered to lock their computer! Tsk, tsk! She cups her chin in her hand as she goes to the internet and smiles when she sees how neat and organized this person was, with their work email and personal email separated on the task bar. She goes to the work email and makes sure to not click anything that hasn’t been read.
Glassy blue eyes skim the emails in the silence of the office, but this doesn’t stop the growing look of annoyance on Winnie’s face. Finally she pauses, sitting up right as she reads over an email. She mutters the words under her breath.
*Subject: Welcome Party!
Hey everyone!
The welcoming party for the new onsite security team will be held in the meet and greet room on 12/4! I know they’ve been here for awhile already, but we only just now got the clearance for the party.
Be sure to send them the copies of all your ‘trouble’ or ‘probationary’ kids files to the third floor. Even more important that they get all the flies on our runaways. I know what Rick says, but I think we can really help them.
Let’s welcome our new family members!
Rachel Frank, Director of Brooklyn Foster Care*
“Third floor.” She taps her chin, looking up at the old ceiling as if it held some kind of clue for her.
A heavy slamming noise knocks Winnie out of her train of thought and she stands up and exits out of the email.
The sounds of crying, sounds like a baby or toddler, and a human voice trying to soothe them. “Shh, shh, shh... I know... I know.” The voice was getting closer!
Winnie looks up and mentally groans before climbing on top of the desk, pushing the square ceiling title out of the way and putting a foot on the ancient computer monitor to boost herself up into the crawl space between floors just as the door to the office starts to rattle.
The door opens and the ceiling tile is pushed back into place.
Winnie holds her breath as she hears the figure walk into their office. Winnie is 1 million percent sure that spiders are crawling all over her and she has a strong desire to thrash about and kill them, but she lays, spread out and perfectly still in the ceiling.
The screaming child is providing good cover at least. The person with them saying all the right motherly words to them to try and calm them, but now that the voice was closer she could tell it was male.
“Here we go! Right over... Here...!” The voice is right below her! Winnie can’t see anything in the pitch black but she can feel her heart stop for a second. “Look, see? Your little rattle! Thank God I left it here... Shake, shake, shake! Shake, shake, shake!” The crying subsides a little bit. “Good boy! You need a nappy-poo? Huh?”
Baby talk. Winnie cringes.
She figures she can’t stay here... It’s impossible to see, but Winnie does her best to recall the layout of the second story... She feels along the flimsy tile and gulps. ’Thank you Hermes or mom for making me crazy skinny... No boobs, though? Really?’
The voice below was none the wiser as Winnie slowly inched away. It was like when you were on ice, you spread yourself out and tried to not break it. Same rules applied here, but with ceiling tiles and spiders,
So. Many. Spiders!
Whoever was in their office seemed intent to stay in there, and Winnie secretly hated them for it. She had to reach out and feel the space in front of her before slowly crawling forward. She feels where the wall below was and she kept crawling in this seemingly random direction till the voice below was muffled and Winnie exhaled.
Which kicked up all kinds of dust and webs... And Winnie had to bury her face in her hands as she struggled to not sneeze.
When it was safe, Winnie started patting down her body. ’Trapped... In the ceiling. Sounds like R. Kelly’s sequel.’ She starts to take stock of what she has left in her pockets... Bobby-pins, rubber chicken, ruler. That was good! Very good! Winnie was trapped in the ceiling of this building in Brooklyn, she was sure weirder stuff had happened... And she wanted to get to the third floor anyways, this just put a little bit closer then expected is all.
With no vision she was going to have to rely on her other senses. Winnie turns around slowly, hearing the ceiling tiles creak and moan slowly till she was able to shift over onto her back. She reaches up towards the floor of the third floor and feels around. Shuddering as she sticks her hands right into a massive spiderweb. But she pushes forward, feeling along the... Floor boards? Yeah. What is strange is that this floor doesn’t feel like rectangular wooden floor boards... It feels solid, almost like stone, and is cold to the touch. The daughter of Travelers was not deterred and she keeps feeling for the edges of this cold stone. Still she feels a raised but bumpy edge. But it crumples away at her touch, revealing a deep groove between one cold shape and another... She feels along the edge and is able to deduce that the shape is square and it’s got something like old caulking around the edges. Maybe this was ceramic tile instead of wood? Perhaps the room directly above her was a bathroom or a kitchen. Winnie prayed it wasn’t a holding cell at the very least, but also thanked whoever was responsible for building for shoddy craftsmanship.
She slips the ruler out from her sleeve and uses it to chip away at the glue that was keeping the tiles together. It was like chiseling, but every time that Winnie had a section of the glue tapped away, she gives the tile an experimental push. The hefty tile wiggled, but ultimately remained in place. But that little wiggle was all she needed to get her spirits up!
Time passes and Winnie has managed to adjust and chip away all four sides of her chosen tile, and wack her head on a pipe of some kind. She slips the ruler back into her sleeve and lifts her legs up and braces them against the tile. She holds onto the same pipe she had whacked her head on and pushes! Her legs, being stronger then her chicken arms, lifted the tile up and very carefully she pushed the tile to the side, creating just a small opening that flooded the crawl space in dim light. Winnie crawls out of the opening and she’s directly under a bathroom sink, but at least the bathroom was private with a single white toilet, no windows, and a night light plugged into the corner giving her the faint light.
She sits on the bathroom floor with her legs still dangling into the crawl space. Winnie breaths air that wasn’t filled with spiders or dust and shakes out her head, she can see the dust particles flying all over the place! She wipes at her face and then pushes the ceramic bathroom tile back into place. It slides back in with a faint thump and when Winnie puts weight on the top it shifts a bit but doesn’t look any more suspicious then any other loose tile in a bathroom in a run down office building.
Winnie stands up and gets a bit of a shock when she sees herself in the mirror. Her wig was loose and pink hair was poking out of the front, but Winnie was still coated in dust and what Winnie hoped wasn’t mouse poop. Her once black sweater now look like a dull brown thanks to all the dust. Winnie cringes and moves over to the meager trashcan in the corner of the room. She pats down her body quite eagerly, hoping to get the dust and grime to land in the trash bin, but what could you do? She stops to pinch her nose when she feels a sneeze coming on... Winnie goes back to the mirror and adjusts her wig, hiding the pink and shooing away some spiders that liked the hair. Wednesday would have been proud. She dusts off her badge as well and checks the mirror again.
She still looked like someone who had just crawled out of a crawl space... Or a human who thought they were supposed to be a chinchilla. Whatever! It was time to figure out the next step. She crouches down and finally opens the door. Right away she hears voices.
“Okay, so... Two sodas, one diet, cheeseburger, fries-“
“Please don’t forget the no pickles on my burger!”
“If you put it on the app, then it’s gonna have no pickle!”
A gasp, “You can do that?”
Winnie peeks out of the bathroom, to see a floor plan similar to the second floor. With a large open space in the center and offices around the edges. There were less desks in this room at least, and there seemed to be a holding cell of some kind towards the back instead of offices but from his angle Winnie could only see the corner of the cell.
The two that were talking were sitting at a desk in the bullpen, an older lady with curled white hair, and a younger man with black hair. He is showing her something on his phone, gesturing to it.
“Yeah. Look. Cheeseburger? No pickle.”
The woman looks shocked, her wrinkled age showing as she nods her head. “My... My grandkids showed me this one time.”
“Oh yeah?”
They go back to talking and Winnie closes the door to the bathroom. She sits behind the door and sighs. How was she supposed to get to a computer or office with the two of them chatting in the dead center? It sounded like they were ordering food... But if one of them decided to go to the bathroom? Winnie would be discovered easily and even with the badge she was going to have a hard time explaining how she got into here without them noticing.
She does the only thing she can do and wait.
And wait.
Winnie sits perfectly still, staring at the nightlight they had plugged into the wall and digs her nails into her knee. The uncertainty, the risk... It made her heart beat so fast but she sat perfectly still.
The phone rings and Winnie jumps a bit, quickly crawling over and opening the door again.
“It’s here? Great! No, I’ll be right down. Thanks Susan.” The man stands up but so does the woman.
“I’ll help you carry it up.”
“Ah! Such a classy lady, Miriam. Thank you.”
“Will she be alright?”
“Don’t worry about them, lets go before the kids smell our food and try to take it for themselves.”
The two laugh and the door to the stairwell slams shut behind them. Winnie wastes no time! She explodes out of the bathroom making a beeline for the nearest computer.
“What the fuck?”
Winnie stops so suddenly she trips herself up, landing on her face as she attempts to skid to a stop. She looks up from her newly prone position to see a figure in the holding cell.
Probably a runaway, judging by her torn clothes and black eye. This girl doesn’t look a day over 12 though, with half a buzz cut on one side of her red hair and smeared makeup all her face. She just has a look of shock on her face from her seated position on the bench of the holding cell. Looking at the prone Winnie.
“How did you... When did you...?” She looks to the bathroom door then back to Winnie. “G-Guar-!”
“No! No! No!” Winnie scrambles to her feet, holding up her hands in a hopefully peaceful gesture and walks between the desks to get closer to the girl. “No guards! Look, I’m like you!” She points to the badge around her neck but this girl doesn’t look at the badge at all.
She points to the bathroom, “You just came out of there! Outta no where! I’ve been up here for hours and I know there was no one in there!” Winnie looks a bit sheepish, “You some kind of toilet gremlin?”
Was that a thing? Winnie would have to look that up later. She shakes her head, “No, I’m not. I’m like you. A kid who got shafted by the system. But now I’m out and I’m trying to make the system work for me.”
The girl gets up, putting her hands on the bars, pressing her face against them as well. “Can you get me out?” She has a hopeful yet intense look on her face.
Winnie has to take a step back, “Well... I mean...” She could pick the lock, she guessed... But this girl was in a cage for a reason. Winnie had been on the other side before and sometimes people deserved to be there, but Winnie didn’t know this girl.
Seeing the hesitation on her face the girl sucks in a breath, “GUAAAAR-“
Winnie smacks a hand over her mouth. Out of reflex mostly, but she has a pained look on her face. “Fine! Fine! I’ll let you out, but you have to help me first.”
The caged girl bounces a little bit, she nods her head eagerly.
“I need the files on the runaways... Or special cases. Point me to the office or desk of the person who handles those and after I get my information, I’ll let you out.” Winnie removes her hand from the girl’s mouth very slowly.
“Deal. Your in luck, Miriam over there handles the runaways. That’s her desk over there.” She points to the desk where the two adults had been talking earlier. Winnie sighs happily and runs over to the desk. She is quickly flipping through the files that were already on the desk and opening the drawers and the nearby file cabinet. The cabinet seems to be the sweet spot, seeing how it was organized by name. Winnie flips through the H names till she happens upon what she has been looking for the whole time.
Holmes, Winifred.
She pulls her thick file out of the cabinet and holds it in her hands. It was all on freshly printed paper. Maybe Miriam wasn’t truly as tech inept as she let others believe. Winnie laughs a bit as she opens it and flips through the pages. Her whole life, every misdeed on these pages... Every home she had lived in and their reasons for kicking her out. Every family that had shown interest or backed away. Every item she ever got caught stealing and her various mug shots as well.
She is tempted to go to the last page, to see what they have put down for her latest escape, but instead she opens up to the front and gets her answer.
The first page is much like a police report, with her mug shot and all kids of various information. Stamped in red across the picture of a Winnie with blonde blonde hair and a face so beat up no one could recognize her were the words ‘Broken.’ Winnie has to blink when she sees that word and it does change to ‘Runaway.’
Winnie has to rub her eyes. Was her mind playing tricks on her? Had that not just said broken? But she looks back at the paper and it still says... Runaway.
A hiss from behind Winnie, “Hurry up!”
The girl in the cage had a point.
Winnie starts to flip faster, till she finds the note she was looking for.
Father: Unknown. Mother: Dedra Holmes, last checked in with parole officer Stuart Freeman at home residence.
Winnie almost tears the paper apart as she searches for the home residence. She stops and looks over the list of addresses for Debra Holmes. The list was rather short, apartment complexes within Texas but the very last residence was a house address for here in New York. Winnie’s breath becomes shaky as she checks the date on that address. Three years ago was the last time Debra Holmes had checked in with her parole officer at her home location.
Three years!
Winnie curses who was ever taking these notes. She grabs a sharpie and scribbles the address on her arm. She caps the marker and drops it back on the desk as she shoves her file back into its place.
She turns on her heel and goes to the holding cell door. She kneels down and starts to work.
Finally. A name and a location. Winnie had no memories of her mother. Not in the slightest. All these kids, Saul especially, talking about their mortal sides... It made Winnie feel jealous and incomplete. Hermes had lore and stories, more kids then she could count, but her mother? A big blank spot.
No more. Winnie was going to get answers from this Debra Holmes! Find out why she did everything she did.
Maybe then... Maybe then Winnie would feel better.
The lock clicks and Winnie slides the door open. The girl squeaks and runs out. She stretches her arms above her head, as if she had been cooped up for soooo long.
“Thanks! My name is Siri! Yes, like the phone.” She waves her hand about, dismissing the topic. “Now what do we do?”
Winnie scoffs, “We? I just said I’d get you out. I didn’t say out of the building.” Winnie holds up a finger as the girl before takes in a deep breath, ready to scream again. “And if you scream again, we both are going to be in trouble! I can tell you from experience cops don’t like it when you break their stuff and they don’t like it even more when their charges get out of their cells.”
The girl huffs, dropping the excess air she was going to use to scream. “Fine! There’s a fire escape this way...” She stalks over to the window but holds up a hand when Winnie tries to follow her. “Uh, what did you just say to me about we?”
Winnie rolls her eyes, “Relax, Siri. I’m gonna make sure you don’t trip an alarm or something. I feel like I have responsibility over you now or something.” She pushes past Siri and goes to the large window. Winnie runs her fingers along the window pane but spots a plastic box on the window. She curses in Greek.
“What? What’s wrong?” Siri tries to peek over her shoulder.
Winnie taps the box with her finger. “Sensory alarm. If the window is open for more then 10 seconds, it’s going to send a silent alarm out. I assume to the front desk, but I can’t be sure.”
Siri pushes Winnie’s shoulder, “Do what you did to my lock! Take it apart or something!”
Winnie rubs her shoulder, scowling at the girl. “I just said it’s a sensory alarm! To take it apart would mean separating the sensors and setting off the alarm. It’s unlocked though, I’ll open it, you dive out onto the fire escape. I’ll snap it shut.” She goes to the window and presses the latch, getting ready to open it.
“Wait... What about you?” Siri actually sounds like she has a tinge of concern in her tone.
Winnie sighs, “I’m the toilet gremlin. I have an out. Ready?”
Winnie doesn’t wait for her response, she opens the window and Siri looks shocked for one second then dives out the window. Moving faster then one might expect of a mortal kid. Winnie slams the window shut and looks to Siri on the other side. Siri smiles and waves, Winnie waves back, and both girls walk away.
For just a second Winnie thinks she should have asked where the girl where she was going or how she got into the holding cell with a black eye in the first place... Had Winnie done a good thing, or set herself and this stranger up for failure? There wasn’t too much time left to dwell though...
She goes for the stairwell and quickly descends down the stairs, keeping one hand on the railing and the other in her pocket.
As she is about to set her foot on the ground floor the door to the hallway swings open, Miriam and the other guy step into the stairwell, their holds full of food. They both look shocked to see a girl, but Winnie holds up her hands and points to the rubber chicken.
“My little sister left her toy upstairs... Susan said I could go get it?” The two relax almost instantly, they laugh and the guy holds open the door for Winnie. She can feel his eyes on the badge as she walks by and Miriam’s face scrunches up as she gets a whiff of dust and mouse poop.
But either of them stop her. Or wait for her to get to the Adoption fair. The door clangs shut behind them and Winnie keeps walking... She looks at the gated door between her and freedom. The difference between a successful mission and a failed one. She presses the button to alert the receptionist she wanted to leave and holds the badge up to the camera close enough that it obscured Winnie from view. She waits, her heart beating...
The buzz sounds and Winnie pushes the door open quickly. She tosses the badge on the counter as she practically runs by, shouting as she pulls up her hood. “Thanks, Susan!”
The rush of horrible city air hits her nostrils and Winnie breaths it all in! Beats crawlspace air any day!
[Storymode]
Submitted November 20, 2018 at 06:26AM by Comicfan18 https://ift.tt/2PB1iEe
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