Welcome to Gaia! ::

You know those days when you hope that, if there was a just and loving God, that nothing else could possibly go wrong? That “day” somehow formed around my entire life. Without fail, nothing ever goes right. Take when I was only a baby, for instance.

When I was about four or six months old (at least that’s what they told me), I was found on an orphanage’s doorstep, cold, hungry, and not in the best health. A note was clipped to a little blanket someone had wrapped around me, and it said:



Though my name didn’t stay Stephanie for long. Apparently, most people at the orphanage didn’t like that name very much, so they informally renamed me Naomi, and the man who gave me a home finally legally changed my name to Naomi after he adopted me when I was three years old.

That was when I thought everything would be okay, and that’s also when my guardian angel was like, “Umm… I’m gonna go over here and have some coffee, ‘kay?” Everything was okay up until I was…I think eight or nine, because that’s when Malcolm’s car started becoming a heaping pile of scrap metal junk. I loved him as a father figure, I honestly, truly did… But when it came to spending money, he was the worst.

It didn’t surprise me in the least when his rear left window fell and wouldn’t go back up that he said, “Ah, I can fix that,” and ran inside to get duct tape. It also didn’t surprise me when it was that, his attitude for holding onto money, that killed him.

You heard me right, so don’t reread anything you just read. Malcolm, the only person I could call dad (and didn’t, I called him Malcolm), died. The brakes on his car went out while he was on the rode, and I’m sure you can guess the rest of it.

So at age fifteen, I was put up for adoption yet again, which in my opinion would be one of the most useless things they could have done with me. Though I suppose it was better than going, “Hey, uh, here’s ten dollars… You go take care of yourself now, ‘kay?” They let me do that to myself, because I decided that I didn’t want to go back to living in the orphanage. No, instead I though to myself, “Hmm… I bet living in a run-down, damp rat infested apartment will be fun!” In retrospect, I should have stayed at the orphanage. They don’t have rats.

In any case, that’s what I chose, and that’s what dawned to be my first ever Christmas all alone.


I slumped down the apartment steps irritably, because the elevator had chosen the particular day to stop working. Oh, joy. Near the bottom of the steps, I noticed how cold my left foot had suddenly become really cold after it touched down on the last step. Looking back, I narrowed my eyes and cursed slightly under my breath. My boot had come off at the top of the step.

I rolled my eyes and went to retrieve the blasted thing, pulling the strings as tightly as they would go. Same went for the other one. Those shoes were honestly two to three sizes way too big for me, and I probably shouldn’t have been wearing them, but they were the only shoes I had to wear for the foot of snow outside.

For a minute or two, I sat on the top step. I’d been like that since Malcolm died. Kind of sad, but I didn’t really care about that, no matter how heartless that may sound. Creepy or not, I still had the note that was clipped to my blanket when I was abandoned. At the bottom of the paper was a name, but it had been erased sloppily, so I could still make out the name Jen Walker. Unlike other people who would be in my situation, I didn’t bother to look for Miss Walker for the simple reason that I didn’t care.

Think I’m heartless? Don’t care! In any case, whoever Miss Jen Walker is or was, she didn’t want me then, so she probably didn’t want me when I was a teenager. The only thought that came to me while I was growing up was if she had died or something, and if not, I would wonder why she would want to give up such a sweet, caring child like me. That was humor, in case you didn’t catch it.

Standing back up, I began walking back down the steps, hoping that my boots wouldn’t fall off again. If they kept it up, I’d have to get the duct tape out. Everything I owned probably had been fixed up a million times just so I wouldn’t have to buy the exact same thing again. Like the coat I wore that dropped to my ankles had patches of dark blue in every other space and denim pockets had been added last minute when I realized it didn’t have any other pockets. Basically, I took something that was very nice, and made it into something not as nice. Ironic.

Before I was able to open the front door, someone stopped me and made the hair on the back of my neck stand up. “Naomi Harris, where are you going this early in the morning? Christmas morning, no less.” I turned around quickly and my heart gave an unpleasant jump at the sight of my all too intrusive landlord, Mr. Vega. He was a fat, ugly man with a saggy bulldog face that his son, Sammy Vega, was sure to inherit when he got old.

I groaned to myself quietly, wishing I was still five years old so that I could stomp the floor without anyone thinking I was some spoiled brat. “I’m off to the antique shop, Mr. Vega,” I said through thoroughly gritted teeth, but with a slight smile. “But I really need to go because if I’m not there on time, Mrs. Ashburn will have my head served on a silver platter.” Lie number one. He was a nice guy, yes, but going to work on Christmas was nothing compared to having a little conversation with him. Mainly because he’d always “discreetly” bring up Sammy.

“You know, we’re having a New Year’s party in a few days, if you want to come. Sammy’s putting up mistletoe,” he laughed on the last part, but I knew he was not kidding in way or form. I rolled my eyes and forced a laugh out. “You know, he really likes you Naomi. You should come, you’ll have a good--” I didn’t stay to listen to the end of the sentence. Sammy was nice, I have to admit, but he was just as intrusive as his dad, and that conversation was just about to go off the scales of the weird-o-meter.

“Why are my days never normal?” I asked myself, shaking my head while walking down the street of the little, teeny tiny town I lived in. Bus drivers were out of a job in this town, seeing as everyone could just do the two minute walk to school or anywhere else around here. Cars went unused for days at a time unless you had a job outside of town like Malcolm did.
Seriously though, I couldn’t go one day without something superbly odd going on. Like on Valentine’s Day, I got about a million and a half cards from guys at school which turned out to be jokes, and when I came home, the house was decked out in pink and red with hearts on the ceiling. I hate Valentine’s Day.

I turned a corner, taking every step slowly in fear that my boots would come off again. Like I said, they were way too big for me, just like everything else I bought for myself. I knew my size, but everything in my size (which is very small because I don’t get to eat much) is from some odd designer I’ve never heard of, therefore very expensive.

In buying things for myself, I always hear Malcolm’s oh-so convincing words, “Don’t worry, Naomi, you’ll grow into it,” although I don’t think he meant, “Don’t worry, you’ll gain an extra fifty pounds in no time!” Of course, I don’t think Malcolm meant that in any way or form. I had to have a belt on (very tightly) just to wear a pair of pants I got for four dollars, and the coat I had to wear every day of winter so I wouldn’t freeze to death practically swallowed me whole.

I passed by several restaurants and small Dollar stores with CLOSED signs hanging in the window, staring at them with sour envy. I mean, it was Christmas, for heaven’s sake. A family holiday; what could have possessed Mrs. Ashburn to want me, and only me (conspiracy against girl with no family) to work on a day like that? I calmed down, telling myself that it didn’t really matter because I had no family to speak of.

I slapped on a smile and opened the door to the antique shop where a thousand dust bunnies greeted me and the smell of old books hit me hard. “Just smile and make the best of it,” I said to myself, the most pessimistic person I knew. The smile faded and I groaned heavily. “Let’s see how long I can keep that façade without killing myself…”