Sweet Consciousness

"I'm tired, mom," Penny said as the car took the off ramp and onto Valley Fair Avenue.

"I told you Penny," Penny's father said behind the wheel, "The therapist said for you to be more outgoing and socialize. You need to learn how to talk to people."

"... I was talking to mom..."

"Don't want to hear it. Your mother and I know this is the best for you. Come on, it'll be fun."

Penny Perez was on her way to a large dinner party with a bunch of her father's high-upper-middle class friends and their teenagers. She hated this idea with a passion, and not too many people her age could blame her: going to a fancy restaurant with no food she likes (she doesn't eat red meat and it's a "strict" steakhouse) with a bunch of "rich" kids that might pick on her," didn't sound like a good time. At least that's the scenario going through her head.

Penny, in all honesty, was pretty tired, since she just finished babysitting a friend of her mother's one year old son for $25, which her dad kind of made her do, but she was glad to do it, the money was a consolation prize. Penny always found it nice to help with kids.

"Honey, this is nothing to stress about," Penny's mother said calmly, "It's just a little get together."

"I'm anxious," Penny whispered to herself. The tune of that sentence from Penny's lips, and others similar to it, was very familiar to her father's ears, no matter the volume. When he heard her say it, Penny saw a condescending scowl after he rubbed his chin and mouth with his hand in the rear view mirror. Of course, Penny knew statements like that agitated her father, although she believes it's not because of concern or worry.

"Do either of you know what the other kids are like?" Penny asked.

"Darling, they're all around the same age as you. I'm sure it won't be too hard getting to know one another. Besides you're wearing your best ensemble. They won't be able to resist you!"

Quite frankly, her favorite dress, a pink frilly dress where the skirt goes down past her knees and the shoulders are padded with puffy stuffing was one of the few things that made the impending torture more bearable. Her long brown hair was put into a big, two layered bun, and she wore her favorite necklace, a cheap string necklace with a heart-shaped stone painted red that she bought from a girl down the street, no younger than she, ten years ago at a garage sale.

Penny did feel a little better about it, but keeping the anxiety and sadness present was thinking she heard her father say, "Like it matters.”

They arrived to Santa Row, one of the busiest and fanciest shopping centers and dining areas in town. They had something for everyone, sophisticated coffee shops (as well as two Starbucks), elegant fine dining restaurants, vegan friendly restaurants and clothing shops, specialty bars, such as for cigars, writers, and VIPs spending the night. Clothing stores from all across the globe, full outfits reaching three and sometimes four figures in price, and even a new fashioned arcade with all the latest games.

Penny has been to Santa Row countless times since she was two, ever since her mother was the manager of one of the clothing stores. She would join her mother, on days off of school, to work and just wander off, exploring all around the long boulevard with the rows of stores, colorful signs and sparkling lights. To her, traversing the stores and streets was a jungle exploration on steroids, but more modern and seemingly 15 times the fun and excitement. That all stopped about five years ago, when the whole, "NEVER LET YOUR CHILD OUT OF SIGHT OR THEY'LL BE KIDNAPPED AND KILLED!" idea started.

They parked and went over to the very end of the row, to "The Executive" Outdoor restaurant and bar, a very expensive place with live music, great outdoor surrounding atmosphere, and even a place for the kids to play chess, with giant chess pieces as big as five feet tall, with the board to match, right next to the dining area. The people Penny and her family were meeting were already there.

"Ah, good evening, Mr. Frakage, sir. Fine evening for a good meal and cheer, isn't it!" Penny's father said, shaking the hand of a forty year old red-headed man in glasses and a suit, looking as tired as if he just off a twenty hour shift at the office.

"Good evening as well, Mr. Perez, although it would be nicer if you were here on time like the rest of us were," the condescending tone of Mr. Frakage's manor of speaking was evident that he was a business oriented, and egotistical, man/robot.

"I now expect you to flip twenty percent of the bill now."

"I'm sorry, sir, but if I recall correctly..."

"Yes, I said I would be paying for everyone, but I also told everyone not to be even a minute late. I believe we all know what happened to Mr. Marx three weeks ago when he came in three minutes late..."

As Mr. Frakage droned on, Penny's mother brought her daughter in close for a whisper, "Don't worry, he's always been like this. I heard he was born and raised Boring City, Utah." Penny couldn't help but smirk. Her mom had the worst jokes.

Penny sat down at a separate table from the adults, with nine other kids around the ages of 12 to 18. Penny just sat there quietly as the other teens either chatted about the latest in teen gossip, or played some version of the game "Minecraft" on their Ipads. It's like they didn't know Penny was even there.

"That whole thing about the Kardashians and that one rap group really made my day," Said one girl to the other across from her.

"Totally, like, I know for a fact that, once we, like, head to Hollywood and take it by the balls, like, we won't end up like that, for real!"

Three of the boys, sitting next to each other to Penny's left, her having the very end of the table, we're talking about the football season.

"Yeah, that uh Mctavish, he may have punched his brother a week ago but, uh, he managed to get his 21 in, and dude, dude! !"

"Aw, yeah, that was f***ed up. He's practically telling his fans to punch random people in the face."

"But that's not as bad as those other Blah Blah Blah sport-ball team f*****s, right!" Then they high-five each other.

That was exactly how Penny heard those kids talk to one another. As far as she was concerned, how those kids were “chatting” seemed like it was the weirdest language ever. They sounded like they were only using 1% of their brains; like sassy caveman speak.

Then again, who was Penny to judge? It was not like she could have a proper conversation herself. She was always far too shy, and even without being noticed, social anxiety for her was at an all time high now. Penny couldn't even raise her eyes to look at anyone. She just sat there, head as low as she could make it go with her can of her favorite drink, Hawaiian Punch, sipping it slowly with the straw while flipping through her phone’s Tumblr app on her lap. They did give her a glass of ice with it, but she preferred it in the can, with a long enough straw.

"Who is that, like, fruit tart?" asked one of the girls pointing her thumb at Penny, not knowing she could hear her, who was two chairs away. "She looks like a rejected Disney Princess extra."

"She's the Big Warehouse Manager's daughter. The guy's a total suck up to your dad. He actually does work at the warehouse, lifting crap and everything. So weird."

"So is her family, like, just poor? Did they have her at, like, 16 and failed at aborting her?"

"...wow, that's really shallow..."

"So? As long as no one who cares can hear it..."

"Good point," they said as a young waiter walked past them with an angered look on her face.

"Should we say something to her?"

"That Goodwill Barbie Doll? Why? She probably only knows ten words and still sucks on her mommy’s breast."

"Because she's staring right at us, and I'm guessing she's heard every word we've been saying?" Penny was listening to them, she looked up for a second, but kept her eyes down for the most part.

"So what if she's heard us? Like she'll do anything about it. Watch..."

The girl turns her full attention to Penny, who's at arms length away from her at the table, making sure she made eye contact. "Hey dumpster baby, there's no chance, like, in hell even the most retarded guy, or girl if you’re, like, into that, will ever consider you as a GF. You're better off selling your body to science at this point, not, like, they'll get any use of it."

She turns back to her friend with a prideful smile; her friend is absolutely stunned at the viciousness on the inside, but had a straight face on the outside. She looks back to Penny to see her reaction, and she is just as repulsed, but she just stared back with wide eyes and a look of "What the heck was that?"

Penny looked to anyone else at the table to support her after such terrible remarks. No one seemed to notice.

Penny did not talk in any way towards the mean girl being very verbally harsh to her for no reason. She just continued to "calmly" sip her drink through the straw. She had gotten used to comments like that over the years, thanks in part to social media, even though those comments weren’t directed to her or her 20 follower ‘fanbase’.

"See? Too much of a flake to say anything. Like people like her should."

"Carly... that was really mean."

"Aw... Thank you."

"You're welcome," Carly giggles, yet her “friend” just smiles awkwardly. Even she knew Carly can go miles beyond verbal boundaries.

The dinner went on as "casually" as one would expect in the posh modern day. The adults chatted about this and that and what they thought of the last few episodes of "Game of Thrones," sipping on beers and wines, and occasionally taking a dozen glances at their smartphones. The children on the other side finished up what, at least what Penny thought, pointless conversations about the dumbest subjects, all the while having their phones on every second, even as they ate their food. Once the food was brought out, the kids' table manners were god-awful, from at least Penny's perspective. She always took from the examples she learned from fairy tale movies and books. They had their phones in one hand, fork in the other, mouths dirty and unwiped, elbows on the table, and so on, eating almost like they haven't in days.

When everyone was finished with their meals at both tables, Penny being the last one, since most of the girls had nothing but bread or a salad, and the boys gobbled down their steaks and tacos and whatnot, and Penny, slowly nibbling the last bites of her Hawaiian pizza, which she had to pick off the ham and meat because she was too nervous to ask otherwise, like a young bird pecks off a handful of nuts. Then it was time for dessert, or to Penny, the most important meal of the day. She may eat a personal pan pizza like a bird, but she can eat down a mountain of cookies faster than three Cookie Monsters from "Sesame Street." Her mother actually told her that.

Some of the younger kids ordered a slice of cake with a side of chocolate chip cookies, while the rest just sipped on some small milkshakes, but not Penny. She ordered the Chocolate Craver Crater Special, which was a big chocolate vanilla cake in the shape of a Ol' Faithful esque bowl, with chocolate sauce in the crevice, mixed with nuts. She blushed and shook with glee upon having it placed in front of her.

"Good God and Jesus, tot," said Carly with a fake air of concern, "That thing looks like instant Type 9001 diabetes. Are you a weirdo and a pig?"

The word "pig" struck a chord with Penny. In fact, it struck more like a million. She closed her eyes tightly out of shame and a buildup of mixed emotions.

"Oh, what? You're going to cry now, Princess Lard?" said Carly. That was the last straw for Penny as she go up from the table firmly and walked out of the restaurant at an angry brisk pace. Her mother gets up to stop her, but before she can chase her daughter, her husband calmly grabs her hand, gives her a shake of the head, and gets her to sit back down. The other people at the table were too busy with their phones and spirits to notice a second of it.

No one would even think of Penny, at first glance or ever, as a "pig." In the connotation used, no one would think of her as "fat," at first glance, she looks a scrawny little girl with not a bit of cellulite on her. Granted, she does have a bit of a pudgy belly, yet her arms and legs were thinner than toothpicks. She was 4 foot 11 and barely above 100 pounds. How she can eat high amounts of sweets and still be small and lightweight is anyone's guess. (Although her doctor told her that she has a very hypermetabolism, and her father brags a lot about how his family lineage has the healthiest and strongest pancreases in the world. Penny though that was weird too.) But not a soul on earth had ever told Penny she was fat, let alone a pig... all except for Penny's own scatterbrain and soul.

Compare her to the world, or more accurately the Internet, all girls her age had beautiful images, and more importantly, no one treats them like dirt verbally like how Carly just did, and even if they did, a girl would have means to fight back. Not little Penelope. Why? It's not entirely because she's too soft, but she honestly felt like all Carly said to her was true, like she deserved it. After all, her own thoughts in her own head tell her the exact same thing all the time.

With tears in her eyes, she bolted down the avenue of stores until she found a place to be alone. She tucked herself into a ball right behind a trash can under very little light from a source across the street. She had been taunted since the 6th grade just like that and she would always resort to this in times of pain. She had been called, "Special Ed," "weirdo," and teased in ways that made her tease herself and damage her self esteem. Oh but why blame them, she thought to herself. They're being honest. What they say is 100% true. Besides you're the one who let herself get damaged in the first place... and let herself get fat.

She didn't want to cry too loud since she didn't want others to see and pity her. Penny just sat there, softly crying and taunting herself at 146 insults a second. The loudest one of them all was very familiar to her, for she heard it all the time...

"You should just disappear. The world is better off without you."

Then she heard some rustling in the garbage can behind her. She looked slowly to the other side of the trash can and saw a little girl in a dirty yellow dress. The little girl was so startled by Penny that she dropped the paper bag of plastic bottles and had them spill over the street. Both of them started at each other in total fear.

"Hi..." Penny said to the girl.The little girl only whimpered and shook with fear. "What were you doing in the trash," Penny asked. The little girl did not reply, just stood there frozen in place. Penny looked over to the rolling bottles going across the street. Once she noticed them disappearing from sight, the little girl took after them like her life depended on it.

"No! Wait! You could get hit by a car! Don't!" Penny protested, despite they were on a street that cars or much of anything rarely ever went down. The girl started hastily picking up the bottles, completely ignoring Penny's existence. Penny, also in the rush of frantic mode, just started picking up the bottles herself. The little girl freaked out seeing Penny do this.

"No, no! I need those!" the girl pleaded with Penny, and immediately snatched them back into her open bag like she was putting money in it during a bank robbery.

Penny then took notice of the little girl's dress. It was very pretty to her, especially the little frills at the bottom, decorated with little pink flowers. Then she took notice of all the stains that covered the dress; grease, white streaks, it had an unpleasant not washed in weeks smell, and one stain that Penny thought was blood.

Once she finished picking up her plastic bottles, Penny had to grab her hand to stop her for a moment. Why? Out of nervous impulse maybe? "Um... You wouldn't be hungry by any chance?" Penny asked, kind of knowing that sounded really obvious.

The little girl simply nodded, and held out her hands. They way she did it made it clear of how long she has lived the life of a beggar.

"Would you mind waiting here for a minute? I've got some extra food with my family. I could give you some."

"Pl- please...?" The little girl spoke with definite hoarseness in her voice. Penny gives her a nod, and races off back towards the restaurant.

"Oh don't worry, Mr. Frakage,” Penny’s dad nervously said to his boss, “My daughter is a bit of a handful, but I assure you see does this all the time, especially after a meal."

"Huh? Oh, oh, right... By the way, would you mind working six days the first week of September?"

"Oh... uh, absolutely sir! Always ready to push myself sir."

"Always love that attitude, Mr. Perez, I might consider your fourth 80 cent raise of the year." Even as he says that, very monotone, he fails to notice Penny dash through the restaurant right behind him and his colleges, and swipe up three of the take-home bags and then run back out like something out of a Roadrunner cartoon.

"Penny!" her mother called to her frightened, while her father gave her a really angry, "HEY!" yet she ignored them both and took of with the random boxes of food.

She returned to the girl in a matter of minutes, finding her curled up in a ball right where Penny found her.

"I didn't check what food it is. Would you like to check?"

The little girl nodded and they looked through the bundles of leftovers. Pretty much all they found was now soggy French fries, 1/4 of a couple of steaks, two or three shrimp skewers over a bit of rice, a small cup of clam chowder, and three boxes of uneaten salad. The little girl, despite this, saw all this as a treasure, and she was a member of Jake and the Neverland Pirates. Penny could see the twinkle in her eyes, yet she stayed to the situation at hand. The last box was Penny's hardly touched chocolate cake, which was in a box so big it could fill up the space of . Penny could see the little girl's eyes pop, her mouth water, and her joy bright up her entire being. It put a smile on both of their faces. Penny couldn't help but squeeze her tight.

"Are- can I-" asked the little girl.

"It's all yours. I couldn't finish it anyway," Penny said, the second statement being a total lie. "You deserve it way more than I do. What's your name, if I might ask?"

"Amira. A-M-I-R-A Sahoe, 1290 Joaquin Street, Sacramento CA."

"Wow, you memorized all that? And you are how old?"

"Six years, seven months, and twenty... twenty..."

Penny couldn’t help but smile radiantly at this little girls brilliance, "Wow, did you also know this Amirah? Your name comes from one of the first ever languages, Latin, and it means "Princess." Your name could be the name of the world's very first Princess!"

"Really!"

"Yep."

"Wow..." The girl whispered longingly with amazement. "I can't wait to tell mama, and with all this..." The twinkle in her eye went out like a campfire doused in a hurricane, once she realized the true situation.

"I have to be going now. Bye, weird lady..." and she ran off with all the food into the shadows of the cold and unpredictable city streets.