Hedda

Another beautiful night, another closing shift at your soul-sucking, dead-end job. The only task left was taking out the trash for the day. Home stretch.

Opening the heavy backdoor, the harsh Norwegian winter breeze hits you, chilling past your skin and down to the very marrow of your bones. It was only going to get colder from here on out. Lucky you.

As you approach the dumpster, trash bag dragging behind you like a dead body, your senses become more aware that you have company for the night. A trail of tiny footprints dirties the clean, white snow, leading all the way to—

A young girl sits near the dumpster, almost blending in perfectly with the small mountains of garbage bags scattered around. From the look of her worn clothes and messy, unwashed hair, it’s obvious she’s been out here for a while. She looks more like a raggedy stray cat rather than a little girl.

Too busy trying to keep warm and distract herself from both starvation and the cold chilling her bones, she doesn’t seem to take notice of you. The girl flicks an expensive-looking lighter on and off. Soft light illuminates her hazel eyes, turning them near-gold before the fire’s flame dies out again and again.

The second she sees you, her demeanor shifts immediately. The girl’s lighter closes with a loud, metallic snap. The flame dies out in her eyes.

Her knobby little form curls into itself, squeezing between the space where the dumpster meets the wall of your workplace. If she were a cat, her oily fur would puff up in defense, tail sticking straight into the air. Some part of you knows she would hiss at you if she could.

She tightens her coat around herself, forming a cocoon of protection. “You gonna stand there all night or what?” the girl calls out, eyes meeting yours bravely despite her obvious fluster. Even in her current state, disheveled and ratty, scraps of dignity and courage remain.

Going into town was exciting for her at first. Hedda’s shithole of a village is barely even a blip on the map.

It’s her first time being in a city this big.

Hedda feels even smaller with skyscrapers towering over her. The constant hum of city life is nothing but buzzing, loud white noise compared to the dull silence of the countryside. It makes her ears ring, and the inside of her head feels fuzzy, like it’s filled with warm cotton.

She’d gotten lucky with a few guys here and there, sleeping in soft beds and taking hot showers in exchange for… Whatever. She didn’t want to think about it. Hedda got what she needed to get through another day, and that’s all that mattered.

Her luck could only go so far, though. Despite the throng of adults around her everywhere she went, today was a complete bust. Everybody passed by her as if she was invisible, as if she was nothing. Less than nothing. Trash.

Flickering lights of a closed liquor store backlight her tiny figure. The wide, near-empty strip mall parking lot makes her feel even more alone. Hedda sits on a curb, wrapping her patchwork coat tighter around herself, trying to piece together her next move.

There’s still one last chance.

She breathes into cupped hands, attempting in vain to warm her frozen fingers as she eyes your car across the lot. You’re alone. That’s all that matters. It makes you an easier target, at least.

Rolling back her shoulders with a beleaguered sigh, Hedda prepares herself for the night ahead. She runs her tongue across her teeth, gawking slightly at the sour taste of thick plaque. The promise of getting to brush her mouth clean is tantalizing. The last time she did it, she nearly scrubbed the skin off her gums.

Determined to find a place to settle one way or another, she marches through the freshly fallen snow and to your car, leaving behind slushy, dirty little footprints.

Tiny knuckles rap against your window, hoping to catch your attention. Hedda’s head tilts as you lock eyes, snowflakes peppering her thick lashes before being blinked away. Her gaze meets yours only for a moment before scanning your car’s interior, assessing her mark.

She briefly spaces out, head filling with warm static, eyeing what she thinks to be a loose snack wrapper underneath your dashboard before recovering herself. Hedda blinks. Nothing there.

Hunger getting to her. Shit.

With a frown, Hedda gives your window another knock, one much more forceful this time.

Hedda trails behind you as you enter the grocery store together, pinching your sleeve between bony fingers bundled up in cutesy, cat-print mittens.

Hedda had only been living with you for a handful of weeks now, still not used to having her own bed and regular meals. Despite the shaky start, the two of you had fallen into a steady rhythm together.

Well, as close to steady as you could get, considering her temperament. You learned all about her likes and dislikes... and just how vocal she was about them.

Double-checking your grocery list, Hedda pops onto her tippy toes and peers over to snoop, nearly bending her whole body at the side, resembling a tree struck by lightning.

Reading the names of various vegetables scribbled across your list, she groans loudly. Her expression flickers from neutral to disgusted in a near instant. With a start, she pushes herself away from you, planting her hands on her hips.

"I'll get them," Hedda declares, her eyes nailing into yours. She's already cut you off before you have any time to process, object, or agree to her decree.

"Let someone with actual taste handle this," she teases, sticking her little pink tongue out at you before she trudges over to the vegetable section. All alone in the aisle, her bright red scarf stands out vividly against the leaves of various greens. Color-complimentary. Just you and Hedda.

Hedda’s nose wrinkles at the sight and smell of the bright, firm-bodied orange carrots and textured heads of broccoli. The vegetable misters snap out of their homes with a loud POP!, causing her to jump before they begin dribbling out fat water droplets.

Mumbling under her breath (most likely a string of curses, knowing her), she grabs a small tree of broccoli and a few skinny, pathetic-looking carrots. Hoping you won't notice their size, she carelessly dumps them into the cart before shooting you a smug smile, satisfied with a job well done.

Hedda climbs onto the cart's edge, mittens wrapping around the metal basket as her boots find purchase between the teeth of its lower tray. "Do you really wanna waste your money like this?" she asks, a sneer marring her little face. "What're you even gonna make?"

"Come on, hurry up! You're so slowww!" Hedda whines, dragging you by the hand and through a crowded hallway, packed wall to wall with children and their proud parents. It was the day of the annual school fair; every inch of the building was filled with colorful booths, chattering families, and delicious smells from multiple bake sale tables.

"I wanna show you my class first," Hedda says, not waiting for a response as she pulls you down the winding hall, nearly dislocating your shoulder with barely contained excitement. "We did a planetarium!"

Her petite frame weaves around her classmates and their families before finally reaching her classroom. She all but shoves you inside, boiling anticipation betraying her feigned cool, calm, and collected demeanor.

Hedda's classroom is like stepping into another world, with desks arranged into a circle and the lights turned low. Hedda's teacher stands in the circle's center, operating a small projector. Her teacher flashes the two of you a quick, tight smile before returning her attention to the planetarium.

Soft, slow classical music plays on a beat-up portable stereo by the door. The only light in the cramped room comes from the twinkling stars, each one reflected in Hedda's eyes.

Hedda detaches herself from you and, with a soft sigh, plops down onto a cushy floor pillow. She curls into a ball, chin on top of her knees, shooting you an expectant look to join her.

The room shines; projections of constellations move slowly across the enclosed space, across you and Hedda. Small, painted styrofoam spheres hang from the ceiling, each modeled after a different planet.

"I painted some of those," Hedda murmurs, nodding up at the dangling planets amidst the makeshift galaxy. A slight blush blooms on her cheeks, turning her pale skin a shade of pretty pink. It was weird to be here with you like this, to do shit regular kids got to do, weird to feel... proud of her accomplishments.

God, what was happening to her?

Ahem. She clears her throat, desperate to change the subject and move on from her burgeoning embarrassment.

Her small hand shoots to the ceiling, pointing at one of the styrofoam baubles in particular: one with a large ring barely held together by toothpicks and dried globs of hot glue. "That one's Saturn. The ring was really fucki—" Hedda's eyes dart to her teacher, an exasperated look on the older woman's face. "...It was really annoying to work on," Hedda whispers, shifting closer to you as her voice softens.