Walking alone, the story of another broken home, chapter 3
She had walked over a three thousand miles. Or at least that's what she figured, not really trusting her mathematical skills. She forgot when she had started counting each step, every mile, every path she had taken she couldn't remember a time when she hadn't. Actually she didn't remember much, she didn't want to either. All she knew was that for as long as she had been on the street (which was at least ten years) she had jumped from city to town to city each time with a different identity and a different story, that way no one would catch on. Counting the miles was merely a game to keep herself amused. There wasn't much else to do.
The only thing she was certain of was that she was alone and only talked when she had to, which was usually when she had to make up a new alibi for why a girl her age wasn't in school or why she was all alone in the bad part of town at midnight. The only time she really opened her mouth was to tell another lie, and whether she regretted it or not she had bigger problems.
All she had with her was a plastic bag full of random items that she picked out of dumpsters and a lot of memories she couldn't string together, even if she had wanted to. But she got by stealing food out of run down markets, picking pockets, it wasn't the life that she would have chosen but she didn't know anything else. Every time she stole she felt extreme guilt but she figured that she would worry about morals later, when she had more time and energy.
But today as she walked the long and endless highway she couldn't ignore the fact that something in the air was different. It was nearly May, and despite the fact that it was only fifty degrees there was a certain sugary spice in the wind that made her want to get up and dance and cry all at the same time. But she instead just kept walking as the cars roared beside her, every vehicle passing her as if she couldn't catch up.
After about another mile of walking she saw a bright green traffic sign that said in big white letters WELCOME TO OAKLAND.
The girl shrugged not really even considering the fact to keep walking since it was nearly dark. She hastily stepped a few more feet until she reached what seemed to be the center of the city with big buildings and run down apartment complexes. Something looked familiar about this place.
As the sky grew from orange to violet to blue to black the street lights went on in a flicker, one by one. She hoped she could find a descent alleyway or something to sleep in, one without any other runaways or creeps although she was in the bad part of town, and that wasn't likely. She walked by a window of a shop and couldn't help but stare at her reflection for a minute.
Brown hair, or maybe it wasn't there was too much dirt and grease to see her natural color. Her brown eyes almost bulged out of her sunken eye sockets. Her lips were thin, as was her face and her skin looked like it had been draped over her bones and was a white transparent color. She looked the way she felt, which was a fact she had to get over due to the fact that she didn't have enough money to buy make up or anything any one else would have.
She continued to walk when she heard a sound. Well at first she thought it was a sound but as she continued walking she realized that it was music.
Dearly beloved are you listening?
I can't remember a word you were saying
Are we demented or am I disturbed?
The space that's in between insane and insecure
She realized that she was crying. Something about it made her want to. She hadn't cried in years, she was to washed out and lost to ever find the time to cry. She ventured towards it anyway only to find out that it was just someone's car radio.
As the song continued to play she found more tears escaping from her eyes, although she told herself to quit because crying never got a person anywhere. Crying scared her more than it relieved her emotions, actually it reminded her that she was human and she did have emotions, emotions she didn't want to face.
She wanted to hide from them, they were useless anyway. Just stupid reminders of how unfair her life was. Just another reason to want to die. She hated herself for feeling self pity, or maybe she just hated herself.
The only thing she was certain of was that she was alone and only talked when she had to, which was usually when she had to make up a new alibi for why a girl her age wasn't in school or why she was all alone in the bad part of town at midnight. The only time she really opened her mouth was to tell another lie, and whether she regretted it or not she had bigger problems.
All she had with her was a plastic bag full of random items that she picked out of dumpsters and a lot of memories she couldn't string together, even if she had wanted to. But she got by stealing food out of run down markets, picking pockets, it wasn't the life that she would have chosen but she didn't know anything else. Every time she stole she felt extreme guilt but she figured that she would worry about morals later, when she had more time and energy.
But today as she walked the long and endless highway she couldn't ignore the fact that something in the air was different. It was nearly May, and despite the fact that it was only fifty degrees there was a certain sugary spice in the wind that made her want to get up and dance and cry all at the same time. But she instead just kept walking as the cars roared beside her, every vehicle passing her as if she couldn't catch up.
After about another mile of walking she saw a bright green traffic sign that said in big white letters WELCOME TO OAKLAND.
The girl shrugged not really even considering the fact to keep walking since it was nearly dark. She hastily stepped a few more feet until she reached what seemed to be the center of the city with big buildings and run down apartment complexes. Something looked familiar about this place.
As the sky grew from orange to violet to blue to black the street lights went on in a flicker, one by one. She hoped she could find a descent alleyway or something to sleep in, one without any other runaways or creeps although she was in the bad part of town, and that wasn't likely. She walked by a window of a shop and couldn't help but stare at her reflection for a minute.
Brown hair, or maybe it wasn't there was too much dirt and grease to see her natural color. Her brown eyes almost bulged out of her sunken eye sockets. Her lips were thin, as was her face and her skin looked like it had been draped over her bones and was a white transparent color. She looked the way she felt, which was a fact she had to get over due to the fact that she didn't have enough money to buy make up or anything any one else would have.
She continued to walk when she heard a sound. Well at first she thought it was a sound but as she continued walking she realized that it was music.
Dearly beloved are you listening?
I can't remember a word you were saying
Are we demented or am I disturbed?
The space that's in between insane and insecure
She realized that she was crying. Something about it made her want to. She hadn't cried in years, she was to washed out and lost to ever find the time to cry. She ventured towards it anyway only to find out that it was just someone's car radio.
As the song continued to play she found more tears escaping from her eyes, although she told herself to quit because crying never got a person anywhere. Crying scared her more than it relieved her emotions, actually it reminded her that she was human and she did have emotions, emotions she didn't want to face.
She wanted to hide from them, they were useless anyway. Just stupid reminders of how unfair her life was. Just another reason to want to die. She hated herself for feeling self pity, or maybe she just hated herself.
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