Wreath Read Online Free Page B

appeared at the shrill sound. She was alone in this place, with the exception of who knew what kind of varmints.
    She was alone in the world.

    The collection of beat-up cars went on and on, scattered here and there, right up to a swampy area. The size of the junkyard swallowed Wreath up.
    From the road, it looked like a few cars and then trees, but it was huge. A mass of metal, everything was rusted, dented, crumpled, or moldy. The discards spread across what she guessed were quite a few acres, but she couldn’t remember how big an acre actually was. She loved books and drawing, but didn’t particularly care for math. Was an acre something you studied in math? She couldn’t remember.
    Wreath had finished her junior year only a week and a half ago, but the details disappeared in her tiredness, and she didn’t try to snatch them back. Her thoughts resembled the cars, piled up and rusty.
    Only days ago she had been in charge at home, caring for Frankie, making sure food got cooked and clothes washed. She had taken care of her mother in one way or another most of her life, but she wasn’t as grown up as she had thought.
    She was only sixteen. She wouldn’t even be seventeen for six months.
    This new life was already an on-the-run fiasco.
    No, Wreath had vowed to her mother she’d get an education. She’d earn money. She didn’t want to live in a run-down rent house with skuzzy people the rest of her life. She’d make her senior year work out somehow.
    Big Fun hadn’t been
that
bad. Their old neighbor liked Wreath. Some of the cousins hadn’t been so bad when she was little. If not, someone else would take her in.
    Take her in.
    Wreath hated the way that sounded, like she was a stray dog waiting to be adopted at the pound, but she wouldn’t be a burden.
    She was smart and strong and knew how to do all sorts of things around the house. Her mama used to say Wreath had always been a little adult, even though she was younger than most in her class.
    Only one year stood between her and freedom.
    She would rely on others until she graduated, and then she wouldn’t need anybody—not foster parents who’d feel sorry for her, not nice people like that woman Clarice or the old lady next door in Lucky.
    NEW PLAN
, she wrote in big letters in the notebook and made another list:
    Scrap old plan
.
Make safe place to sleep tonight.
Call foster care office
.
    Her stomach growled.
    Buy a hamburger, no matter how much it costs
.
    Tomorrow she could go into Landry and figure out how to get in touch with someone who could tell her what to do. She’d live like a normal girl—find someone to stay with, get a part-time job, go to school, graduate from high school, and grow up. She’d find a way to pay for college and make lots of money. She’d wear pretty clothes and have a handsome husband and sweet children who had lots of toys and books and were never left alone.
    Never.
    They would stay in one place, and she’d always be there for them. But tonight?
    She could try to find Clarice’s house and admit she needed help. But the path back to where she had been dropped off had been a long walk in daylight. It’d be safer to stay put. Start fresh tomorrow.
    She’d been on her own for only five days, and she already felt stuck.
    That’s what she was. Stuck.
    She was stuck in this weird place that had seemed so perfect. Or she was stuck with living with someone she didn’t like.
    What kind of dream world had she been living in? She missed Frankie so much. She wanted to lie down and sleep.
    Wreath tried to find the best place to make her room for the evening and looked for escape routes in case danger appeared. She picked up the stick again and gripped it like a club.
    The memory of Big Fun made her rub her arm. She stuck the diary into the waistband of her jeans and took a few practice swings with the wood. Her arms felt weak and trembly.
    As she searched for a place to rest, she held the stick out in front of her, grasping it with