Seeing my opportunity, I grab for her handbag and stand up quickly, hiding it behind my back pack as I make my way through the crowd and out the front door of the pub.
I don’t think my heart has ever beat so loudly. I walk to the end of the street and around the corner, never looking behind and never adjusting the bags. I need to keep it hidden until I can get somewhere safe.
The familiar golden arches glow up ahead, and I make a beeline to McDonalds and once again head straight for the bathroom.
This time I lock myself in the stall and put the seat of the toilet down, hang my back pack on the back of the door, and sit down to search through the bag I just stole.
My hands are shaking so much that I can barely undo the clasp, but when I do, I reach inside and take the phone out first, turning it off and removing the battery before dropping it into the sanitary bin next to me.
Next, I pull out her wallet and study the photo on her license. Linda Alessi is a twenty-two year-old woman who lives in Castle Hill. In her photo, she is wearing glasses and her hair is pulled back. I don’t know if we look enough alike. I pull out my own ID and hold them next to each other. My hazel eyes are quite light and almost piercing in my photo, and hers are brown. I’m not sure this will work.
My brother and sister’s taunts about my unusual looks float through my head. Compared to me, Linda Alessi looks normal. I hope that with my hair out and makeup on, I’ll get away with it. I guess I can claim to be wearing contacts…
I go through the rest of her wallet and find $227.75 as well as a gift card for David Jones. The original amount on it is $500 dollars, but upon further investigation, I find a receipt that tells me that after a purchase, the card still has just over a hundred dollars on it.
Resting my head against the side of the stall, the reality of what I’ve done isn’t lost on me. I feel guilty. I’ve just taken someone’s identity. I’ve taken things that are personal to them.
But I don’t know what else to do.
I take the wallet and put it in my bag, then remove the lid of the sanitary disposal unit and put the handbag and the remainder of its contents inside. The smell of the bin wafts up to my nostrils and turns my stomach sour, so I replace the lid quickly and exit the stall.
In the mirror a wide-eyed girl, trying to look grown-up stares back at me. I’m almost seventeen years old, but I look like a frightened child. I have no idea if I’m going to be able to pull this off, but I can’t go back to sleeping in children’s parks. I’ll do anything to stay off the street.
I spend a bit of time memorising the details of Linda’s ID, in case I’m asked any questions and then tuck it and $50 inside my strapless bra. After one more check of my appearance, I head off in search of a night club.
It isn’t long before I find one with only a short line and join in, standing up straight and trying to look confident.
“ID” the bouncer at the door says when I reach the front of the line.
I reach into my bra and pull it out to hand to him, taking note of his eyes as they linger on my chest a little longer than they should. I don’t even really think he’s paying much attention to the ID. He hands it back and nods his head toward the door.
I step inside, and the smell of artificial smoke and stale liquor is strong in my nostrils. To my left is a desk manned by two blonde girls who smile at me and offer to check my jacket and bag after I pay my entry fee.
I’m handed a small plastic disc attached to a safety pin which I secure to the inside of my dress before heading toward the next set of doors. Behind them, I can hear the muffled beat of loud music playing. The moment they open, the music bursts through as though trapped and desperate to break free.
Longingly, I wish I still had an E or two to help me through this, or better still, I wish I had some coke. I wouldn’t feel so nervous if I had a little help.