Hard Luck Life: The Clover Trials Part One

  Chapter 1

  The sound of the alarm clock going off on my rickety side table woke me up from the most rested sleep I've had in a long time. So long, in fact, I can't remember the last time I had a full night of dreamless sleep. No dreams of friends or puppies or whatever pleasant dreams people have nowadays, but more importantly, no dreaming meant no nightmares. No dreaming of that night, the night mine and my brother Daniel’s life changed forever and not in a good way. The night the police and child services showed up at our house to tell us that our parents had been in a car accident and died.

  Thankfully, my brother was only three at the time and he didn’t understand fully what was happening. Daniel was sad, but over the past two years, he has adjusted to life without our parents. Me, not so much. I’ve lived with guilt every day since their death. I can’t get over the things I shouted at my parents that morning before they left for work. I was such a snotty seventeen-year-old. If I would have known that was the last time I would see my parents alive, I would have done things so differently.

  2 years ago…

  “Why can’t I go to the party, everyone in the high school is going?” I whined. Oh how I wished I was older and didn’t have to ask my parents to do anything. I wanted to come and go as I pleased.

  “Because there is going to be drinking, smoking, and god knows what else at that party, and I don’t want you around that!” my mom responded. I have already been around drinking and smoking before, but mom didn’t know it. I was in high school! Of course I've seen it all. And the what else she was referring to, that would be sex. If I could go to this party tonight to meet my boyfriend Jake, I might just experience that too. I doubt I would let it get that far, though. Jake and I have only been dating a few weeks, and I liked him, just not that much, but there are other things we could do without going all the way.

  “Plus, we need you home tonight to look after your brother, your father and I have a dinner meeting with colleagues from work.”

  “I’m seventeen years old mom, I can’t be the lamest kid in school and not attend the party of the year! Find a babysitter. I don’t want to watch Daniel! All my friends are going and their parents are ok with it.” I said. Why did I have to have parents that never understand?

  “Well, we are your parents and not theirs.” my father stated. Teaming up with mom. He always took her side. They were sickenly supportive of each other all the time.

  “Yeah, they get cool parents and I’m stuck with you guys!” I mumble.

  “We told you no and that's the end of it!” my mom shouted, sounding frustrated. I didn’t care.

  “I can’t believe you are making me stay home and babysit! I hate you guys, and I wish I had different parents!” I shouted.

  My father looked at me and just shook his head. “Well pixie, sorry to disappoint you, but you're stuck with us. You can hate us all you want, but we will always do what we think is best for you because we love you.”

  “Lucky me.” I grumbled as I walked out of the kitchen and into my bedroom, slamming the door. I wish they would just leave and never come back then I could live my life the way I wanted, I thought.

  Present Day

  I didn’t realize until they were gone, how lucky my brother and I really were to have parents like them. Parents that cared, and I told them I hated them. That was the last thing I got to say to them. I even wished I never saw them again, and I guess I got my wish that time. I wish now I could have those last few moments back so I could tell them I loved them so much, and that I was so grateful for everything they did for my brother and I. But that wish will never come true, and I can’t redo that moment in time so I have to live with this guilt for the rest of my life, unless I can find a way to forgive myself. Fat chance of that ever happening.

  Truthfully, my parents, Eleonor and Grant Wilson were amazing and so in love, even after being married for over 20 years. They were the perfect couple. Yes, they argued sometimes, but they would make up and be all lovey dovey so fast you would think the argument never happened. They even worked together. Dad was a lawyer and mom was his office administrator. They were always together, and dad doted on mom constantly. Taking her to dinner, running her baths at the end of a long day. Even cooking dinner. Every time he looked at her, you could see the love in his eyes. Most women would kill for a relationship like my parents shared. That never happens, it's like a one in a billion chance. Like finding the Holy fucking grail. It would never happen to me. I wouldn’t be so lucky. I didn’t deserve to be happy. Plus, you have to date to find love. I haven’t dated anyone since my parents passed, and I’m not interested in finding Mr. Right anyway.

  If I had to say who I looked like the most, I’d say mom. We shared the same long dark chestnut hair, full cupid lips, and small, slightly sloping nose. I wouldn’t say I was supermodel gorgeous, but I wasn’t ugly. I’d say my looks were slightly better than average. My best friend Allison Greene (Ally) nicknamed me “Sexy Char” so I must be alright to look at. After all, my best friend would never lie to me. My father used to call me pixie because I was so small with a petite frame, just like a pixie.

  “Charlotte, the only thing you're missing is the wings. I’m glad you don’t have wings though, can't have my little pixie flying away.” He’d say while chuckling.

  I’m still small, only 5’ 2’’ but I’ve finally filled out in all the right places. My body is pretty lean, but I’m not like those toothpick skinny chicks that live off of rabbit food. I’d eat burgers and steaks everyday if we could afford it.

  I have my dad's eyes, though. Green eyes, the color of emeralds. They just don’t sparkle like they used to when I was happy and life was good. They are still my best feature. My brother Daniel is a spitting image of dad though. He has green eyes too, just a shade lighter than mine and he has our father’s curly reddish brown hair, and the biggest smile that he only gifts to me. He melts my heart every time. Daniel means the world to me and I’d do just about anything for him. He’s all I have left. I’d die for him if I had to.

  I look over at the alarm clock and see I still have about fifteen minutes to just relax in bed before I have to get Daniel up and get him ready for school. He’s in primary and he loves it. Every evening, he tells me all about his day and the friends he played with. It's the highlight of my day just hearing his laughter and his excitement makes everything better. Lately, though, he’s not been his energetic self. He seems more tired, and he seems to not have much appetite. Maybe I need to get him to bed earlier. He is five, so I’m sure his eating habits are just changing and he’s probably tired of the same old food. We can’t afford much, but I make sure he gets as much healthy food as I can afford. I can’t depend on aunt Audrey to buy anything healthy for him.

  Today though, I feel like it just might be an alright day since I woke up without tears streaming down my face. I’m also happy I didn’t cry out in my sleep and wake the whole house. My aunt Audrey would have a fit if I disturbed her and the drunken fuck buddies she brings home.

  I think my aunt gets more action than a prostitute standing on Main street in town. Not that our little town of Broadwell has any prostitutes. The stiff, poshy, stuck up elite of Broadwell would never allow anything like that to happen in their precious community. At least not on their side of town. No, their side has the fancy million dollar homes with the nice manicured lawns and in ground pools. Every driveway or garage has the latest top of the line luxury car or two.

  That's not the side of town I live in. No, I live where the common folk live. The people on my side of town don’t own mansions, but shitty neglected hovels that barely look inhabitable. Don’t get me wrong, there are some dec
ent houses like my bestie Ally’s house. We had a nice house too when my parents were alive. Her parents were not super rich, but comfortable. She still lives with her parents while she is attending the local college. I would love to attend college, but it's not an option at the moment. Not because I lack the funds to go. I have some money saved for college, and I will go eventually, but right now my focus is looking after my brother. Most girls here don’t go to college or university. They rarely make it out of this town and do something with their lives. No, they either shack up with some loser they dated in high school and get knocked up before they’re nineteen, or they work at the local grocery store, or bars around town. I’m smart enough to know better than to fall into that trap.

  I do work at the local diner, though I don’t have plans to stay till I'm old and grey. I don’t want to wait tables, no; I want to cook, and I want to own a restaurant and become a world famous chef. I want those Michelin stars. People will come from all over to eat at my restaurant. That's my future goal. I will get there eventually. I only make minimum wage plus tips, but my cooking dreams are on hold right now. Daniel comes first, he always will.

  There is one other thing girls can do here to give them a chance to improve their lives and their futures, but only if they can make it to the end.

  It’s called The Clover Trials. Most locals call it the Lucky Lottery because it's hard to get in. They only accept candidates that meet certain criteria. One of the most important is a girl's virginal status. Gag me, who would enter a contest that only accepts virgins. That's some seriously fucked up shit.

  I don’t know all the details involved in the trials. All most people know is that you have to be of legal age, a girl, a virgin, and no boyfriends. You had to be single. The so-called lucky girls that make it to the trials say little when they finally return home. I think they must sign NDAs or some shit that forbids them from telling anyone what goes on in the trials. There are 4 stages to the trials and if the girl makes it past each stage, they reward her with a financial sum. I don’t know how much, but people say it’s a lot. The girls who make it through the interview process are told how much they will receive at each stage of the trial and no girl has ever changed their mind and backed out, so it has to be a lot of money. I’ve never known any girl that made it to the last stage. All the girls that have entered over the years have always returned home before the end of the trials. The Clover Trials are supposed to last six months. They never stay home long, though. Which is odd because obviously they received money during the trials, and no one seems to find it weird why the girls who return home end up working as live-in maids and nannies to the rich and privileged on the other side of town. Why? They have all that money they earned during the trials. Why not take it and move away? Start a new life somewhere away from Broadwell. Some girls do, but ninety-five percent end up working for the elite across town. We never see them again, so maybe it's not such a terrible job. Maybe the pay is so good they don’t want to ever leave. But why don’t we ever see them? They must think they are too good for us now that they live and work over there. Fuck them. The one thing I know is I will never enter the Clover Trials and I will never work for the fucking elite of Broadwell. I will make it out of this town and I will take my brother with me.

  Chapter 2

  I finally decided it's time to crawl my ass out of bed. It’s not like it's super comfy. I think the floors are softer than my mattress. But at least it's clean. The floors not so much. I try to keep the apartment as clean as possible, but I can only work with what I got. The apartment we live in with my aunt has seen better days. It’s definitely one of those hovels that I mentioned earlier. There are stains on the carpet that refuse to come out and I don't want to think about what caused them. The windows are clean only because I cleaned them, but they still have this slight tint of brown that you can’t quite see through. Years of neglect built up a layer of grime that will never come off. The walls of my tiny room are a shade of white that's not available to pick from the paint store. I didn’t bother to paint the walls. Why waste the money when I could use it on my brother.

  The rest of the apartment is like my room. The kitchen and appliances are so out of date, we are lucky the fridge is keeping what little food we have cold. I make sure the kitchen is as clean as possible, but the grout between the tiles is still stained grey because of years of being unwashed. The counter is an ugly beige color that clashes with the yellow fridge and stove. The kitchen is tiny, with barely any space to move between the fridge and the tiny dining table pushed into the corner. There are only two mismatched chairs that look like they will fall apart the next time someone sits in them.

  The living room is no better. There is only a small floral couch from the eighties and a stained recliner that my aunt usually passes out on when she’s so messed up on booze. If she makes it up in her room, that means she’s probably fucking the latest guy she brought home from the local bar down the street. Real winners she finds there. I don’t let Daniel sit in that recliner ever. I think some of those stains are vomit or worse, piss that my aunt ends up laying in until she’s awake enough to get herself to the bathroom. Fun times living in this house. I try to shelter Daniel as much as I can, but I’m not stupid. I know he sees lots of things he shouldn’t while we are living here.

  We can’t move out. Well, I can, but I won’t leave Daniel. When our parents died, child services contacted aunt Audrey, who I didn’t even know existed. I don’t have to wonder why our parents didn’t introduce us to her. She’s an alcoholic and the local whore. She was probably beautiful, like my mom when she was younger; before the booze and whatever else she has been using ravaged her looks. They were sisters, so she shared some of the same features as mom. She was only a few years older than mom also, but she looked at least ten years older. Her hair, always limp and greasy, had streaks of grey throughout. Her hazel eyes were always bloodshot, and her face was creased with wrinkles. Not the laugh lines adults get when they have lived a happy, fulfilled life, but the wrinkles caused by substance abuse.

  Aunt Audrey didn’t want to take us in at first until she was told she would receive a small financial sum from Child Services to help her take care of our monthly expenses. She was happy to take us in after hearing that she would receive money, money which was supposed to be used to take care of our needs, feed us, and cover any medical or other needs that arose while in her care. She took care of us somewhat in the beginning. The bare minimum, though. Just enough to keep child services happy. They would have had to separate us if we went into foster care and I was not letting that happen.

  When I turned eighteen last year, aunt Audrey told me it was time to find a new place to live because I was now an adult and she didn’t want to spend any of the money she received to look after me. Child services wouldn’t let me become the legal guardian of Daniel because I didn’t have a place of my own, and didn’t have a job to support both of us. I can’t find a job around here that pays enough to provide for Daniel, and I refuse to leave him here with aunt Audrey and go away to college. They said I can reapply to be Daniel's legal guardian when I turn twenty-one and get access to the life insurance money from the policy my parents had or find an adequate paying job, whichever comes first. I don’t know why the policy wouldn’t let me have access to it until I’m twenty-one, but it's listed in the fine print. Unfortunately, it's in trusted to my aunt since she is our guardian until I turn twenty-one and can take over. She’s only allowed to use it if there is an emergency, and myself or Daniel need it. I hope she’s not spending it and I don’t know it.

  Like I said, I was not leaving Daniel with our aunt, so I made a deal with her. I told her I would find a job, pay her rent, and look after Daniel. She was pretty quick to agree. If she didn’t have to look after Daniel, she was free to drink and party.

  So here I stay until I’m old enough to access the money from the life insurance policy. Just two more years. I just hope there's some left. A hundred grand wasn’t much, bu
t it would help when I could finally access it. I could take my brother away from this place and start over, go to college and live the life I wanted.

  I walk into the only room in this shitty apartment that looks halfway decent. Daniel’s room is clean and organized. All his toys, which there aren’t many, are lined up on the little bookcase I got at the local thrift store for twenty bucks. For a five-year-old, he was pretty gentle with his toys and looked after them. Maybe he realized if he broke one, I couldn’t replace it. I wasn’t able to buy him lots of things a boy his age would want, but I made sure he got something special for his birthday and Christmas. Our Aunt sure as hell didn’t remember birthdays or holidays so I made those days as special as I could for him.

  I also spent a little of my savings on paint for his walls. His favorite color was green, so I painted his walls a pale green, and found some car decals for his walls at the drugstore in the clearance section. Daniel loved his room, so all the money spent was worth it.

  He’s bundled up under the covers on his little single bed still fast asleep. He looked so small, and I just stared at him for a few minutes. I loved this little boy so much.

  “Daniel sweetie, it’s time to wake up for school,” I gave his shoulder a little tap. He rolled over sluggishly, rubbing his eyes. “Hop out of bed, munchkin, and get dressed. I have all your clothes ready at the end of the bed. Make sure you brush your teeth and I’ll go get you a bowl of cereal for breakfast.”

  “Is it marshmallow cereal?” he asked hopefully.

  “No silly, we don’t eat sugar for breakfast,” His face fell at that comment. “But I’ll make sure I bring you home a big chocolate chip cookie from the diner. You can have for dessert after supper”

  “Yeah! Thanks Char. I can’t wait for dessert” He was so excited. He climbed out of bed to get dressed and I went into the kitchen to get his healthy oat cereal ready.