Between The Cracks

The bright light of the morning sun stings my eyes as I struggle to find my homemade alarm clock in the floor next to me. It wasn't much, but it is all I have left besides Emma and Sofia. I sit up too quick and I crack my head against the rungs of the ceiling ladder Sofia and I had made when I first got here three years ago.
"Ow!" I whimper as I hold my palm against my forehead to catch the line of blood spilling from the fresh cut. I move away from the wall and drop down through the floor. I land quietly on my feet, careful not to alert my mean, resentful foster mother. I walked over to the sink and began to wash out the cut. We never had any bandages, so when anyone of us got a cut, we rubbed it with ash and wrapped it with a clean cloth. However, if our foster mother caught us, she would beat us with a belt until we cleaned the rag off and folded it into a pile in her master, walk-in closet. I heard footfalls in the hallway drawing near. My breath caught, I put the wet cloth down.
"What did I tell you Anna? Huh!? What did I tell you about using my sink!?!?" My foster mother screamed. I could feel my face becoming warmer and warmer.
"I-I..." I stammered in terror. I could only speak two syllables before she cut me off.
"You dirty animal! You get out of my house, you use the hose out in the yard! Now! Get out of my sight before I kick your sorry but out of my home and back onto the streets where you belong! Then you can live like the rest of the hobos!" She screamed at me. I ran out the back door. I waited until I could no longer see my oster mother through the window before I whistled up to sofia who held a rope made out of braided cloth. She dropped the rope down. When I caught it, she began to pull, I climbed higher and higher, until Sofia pulled me into the attic window.
"Thanks," I said as I sweeped the moss off of my homemade pants.