Slowly, my eyes opened. Light hit my face, making me squint. I groaned, rubbing my eyes and sitting up from where I was laying—on some cheap cardboard that a cat pissed on a few days ago, torn and scratched apart. But atleast, it gave me someplace to sleep on by this sidewalk. The other homeless dudes stole most of the sleeping spots….
I sighed, slowly sitting up and scratching my back. I looked down at myself and realized how scrawny I had gotten. The old plain white t-shirt I wore was ragged and torn, the baggy jeans being in an equally worse situation. Then, I felt my stomach groan for food.
"Shut up."
I murmured to my stomach. The sounds my stomach has started making was the usual. What else can I do for food? I already sold my body to some gay creep that seemed into young boys, I have ate from the trash, I have also stole from shops.
Turning my head towards the nearest trash can, an exhale of exasperation left me.
"Trash it is, I guess."
As I stood up, I ignored the disgusted and judgemental sights from the passersby's. What would they know about being forced to live in the streets? Privileged fucks. I silently cursed them in my head bitterly, as I opened the garbage dumpster and started exploring inside.
The smell was disgusting, but I was used to it. Besides, I smelled much worse than this anyway.
As I scavenged the dumpster, carefully on my tip-toes and holding on tight so that I wouldn't end up falling into the dumpster—if I do, the door would close and lock by itself. That's an automatic mechanism the mayor of this city implemented to stop 'tramps' from stealing food from dumpsters. If they try, they would be locked inside, the only way to escape being if someone opened it from the outside.
'So much for caring about the homeless.'
Even then, it's not gonna stop me from grabbing a few meals.
Mostly, I found some thrown away stuff. Including a broken shoe, some tattered clothing and even empty beer bottles. Thankfully, there was some leftover food thrown inside. Some old rice packed into a bag and thrown into the dumpster. It was dirty and had ants all over it, but I didn't care.
Food was food.
Living on the streets, you don't really get to be picky about what you eat. I was glad I even managed to find something to eat this close to me. I have been waiting and sleeping by this dumpster for a week, with no food found still. Until today, of course.
I don't resort to doing dirty stuff like selling my body, doing physical labor or stealing from shops without checking the dumpsters first. Most of the times, doing those dirty things had more risks than rewards. I didn't wanna get an STD, or to break my back during hard physical labor or to be placed in a prison after getting caught stealing.
Walking back to my little 'bed' which was just a cardboard I found somewhere, then laying it down on the sidewalk and calling it a bed. I sat down on it, then opened the bag of thrown away rice.
I took a good look at it and held back the urge to gag, before i started eating using my dirty hands.
'This is you're life now. Get used to it, Morgan.'
I reassured myself in my head. I didn't know why I was struggling so hard to cling to life. Wouldn't it be much easier to die than to continue desperately clinging to life? Was it because i was afraid of death or something else? I didn't really understand it.
I tried not to think about what I don't understand too much.
Instead, I focused on this meal. Rice. I hadn't had tasted rice in months now. Even though the rice had gone bad and had ants all over it, the familier taste was still there. It almost brought me to tears, but I held it together.
I'm not an emotional person.
I tried to convince myself that I wasn't.
By the time I finished the food, I let out a sigh and gently caressed my stomach, before getting up on my stomach. I didn't throw away my plastic bag—throwing away something as useful as a bag that could help me carry even more stuff from dumpsters would be a waste.
But now I knew I couldn't stay here for long. The police know my face. Staying in one place for too long meant I would end up getting caught and trialed for the theft I had committed.
So, I reached down and grabbed my cardboard bed and started walking down the sidewalk, into an alleyway. Then, I will move to another street and sleep there for the night. This has been a repeated process ever since I had been kicked out of my house by my parents.
As I made my way to the alley, I heard sounds of whimpering and sobbing coming from inside it.
'Not unusual around here,'
I mused. It must either be a tramp letting it all out, or a violent crime was occurring here. Regardless of what was happening, I had no intentions of interfering. I didn't wanna put myself into danger by getting involved with whatever the hell is going on inside that alleyway.
But even as I thought that, my legs moved on there own towards the alleyway. Leaning against the wall, I peeked into it.
There was nobody inside the alleyway.
Nobody besides a little girl that was kneeled on the ground, crying and sobbing to herself, hugging her knees. She looked about the same age as me, perhaps even a bit younger. I couldn't help but pity her, wondering all the things she must have had to do to survive….my heart tightened.
I continued watching her for a moment, debating whether I should just ignore this and walk away, or try to go and comfort her.
'Why am I even seriously debating this? I'm not a knight in shining armor.'
I criticized inwardly. Even still, no matter how apathetic and selfish i try to act, seeing a girl that was around my age going through exactly what I was going through made me want to reach out and offer atleast some form of comfort.
Is it okay to just walk away and ignore someone that's crying it out?
It would leave a bad taste in my mouth if I did.
Biting my lip, conflicted between two decisions. I finally sighed to myself and decided to break out of my comfort zone and try to talk to her. Who knows? I might even learn something about the street I'm going to next with her help. Yeah, that's why I'm gonna speak to her. To get information out of her.
My footsteps sounded inside the alleyway, making the girl flinch and abruptly stand up, as she stared at me in fear.
I raised both my hands in peace.
"Wait."
I called out before she could dash.
"I'm like you."
The girl stopped, staring back at me. She still looked fearful and skeptical, but it seemed like she was willing to hear me out. Perhaps even hopeful that I'm not a horrible person here to take advantage of her for some sort of profit.
She didn't say anything, prompting me to continue, taking one careful step closer.
"My name is Morgan,"
I introduced myself, keeping my tone low and casual. Even though it was a bit nerve-wrecking since I haven't really talked to someone in a long, long time. Social anxiety was a real thing.
"I just wanted to ask….why were you crying?"
Maybe that was a bit too direct. But then again, I wasn't great with conversations.
The girl flinched at my question. She was still staring at me with doubt, but there was a hint of hope and longing in her eyes. She must have been so alone. So lonely. That even such simple words was enough to have her cling to hope, for a real human connection.
She opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out. She closed it again, then opened it once more. Her voice coming out shaky.
"M–my name is Emily…."
She couldn't even make eye contact with me.
"And I was crying because…."
Her voice trailed off. I didn't want to push her, so I took another step forward, then sat down on the ground, leaning against the Graffiti of the alleyway. I patted the ground next to me.
But Emily didn't seem comfortable and sat a good distance away from me. I wasn't bothered by it and understood her distrust. Eventually, I opened my mouth to speak.
"So, Emily…..how old are you? I'm 16."
Emily seemed startled by the change of topic. It seemed she was expecting me to keep pushing her until she gave an answer. She must be quite used to being around people like that.
A beat of silence later, Emily replied. Her voice was still shaky, but a bit more calmer and polite compared to before.
"….im 14."
I bit my lip at the young age. She was younger than me and was forced to go through this. I didn't know her story, but I knew it wasn't a good one. But still….
Before I could speak, she spoke up.
"Why….why did you approach me, Morgan?"
I blinked, startled. I opened my mouth to respond to her question, but I couldn't find the words. Why did I approach her? Even I couldn't understand the real reason behind it. Anyone else would of just walked away and I wouldn't blame them for it. That's just the way things are.
"I saw that we were about the same age,"
I murmured, unsure of where I was going with this. But I said my next words anyway.
"It's lonely living on the streets by myself. So, I thought that…..we could be friends?"
Emily looked surprised, her adorable brown eyes going wide.
"F–friends? With me?"
I smiled and nodded, replying without any hesitation.
"Yes. With you."
Now that I took a good look at her, I realized that she was wearing just one tattered piece of clothing with nothing underneath. She had dark hair that reached her waist, which clearly looked as if it hadn't been washed in days, her body was skinny and severely malnourished. Even still, to me, she looked adorable.
She reminded me of my little sister.
This is was why I decided to approach her, to speak with her and be friends with her.
I missed my family so much that I just had to befriend someone that reminded me of one of them. Just how pathetic can I be?
Emily's thoughts were all chaotic and jumbled. She must be distrusting my words, trying to see if I was being sincere or not. That's a good trait and would help her survive long on the streets—with me by her side, she would be able to learn even more tricks.
After some silence, she finally answered.
"Yes….I want to be friends with you."
My eyes widened. It was that easy? I thought there was always some complicated steps or rituals required to making friends. I never had any during school, anyway. And this was my first time ever intiating asking someone to be my friend.
"Seriously?"
Emily nodded vigorously.
"Yes, I don't think you're a bad person, Morgan. Let's be friends."
She's suddenly so cheerful….maybe I was wrong with her being able to survive long. I sighed in exasperation.
"You shouldn't believe people so easily, you know."
Emiliy flinched, but still remained determined.
"I trust you."
Those simple words were like a stab to my heart. The good kind that breaks the dam of emotions you have been suppressing. I don't know why, but I have longed to hear those words for a long, long time now.
I smiled back at her.
"I trust you too."
Then, I stood up, covering my face to hide my pathetic tears.
"Now, come with me. I was planning on moving to another street…."
Before I could finish my sentence, I heard someone speak.
[Wake up, Morgan.]
My eyes widened in panic, as I looked around.
"Who was that?!"
My shout started Emily, who began to tremble. But I couldn't see anyone. Instead, the voice repeated.
[Wake up, Morgan.]
[Wake up, Morgan.]
[Wake up, Morgan.]
'What the hell….'
Everything around me suddenly blurred. Then broke like fractured glass, shattering in an instant. And before I knew it, darkness engulfed my vision once more.