Forlot: The Thanksgiving Horror - Book Fourteen

Chapter Ten

When I blamed her - that it was all her fault - I heard her sobbing. I just rolled my eyes and tried to ignore the sound. Yes, I love her. And yes, I worry about her whenever she is down in the dumps. But if you knew her as much as I do, you would get sick of her crying too.

I decided to head back downstairs to check on her. I wanted to make sure that she was okay. After all, she is the person who buys me whatever I want and fixes all my meals. If she passed...no more presents for me on Christmas or my birthday. Now that is a tragedy.

And if my mom did die...then I would be a homeless boy. That is the last thing that I would want. I do not want to become homeless. I am too good of a person. I have a pure heart and help those around me.

Speaking of helping and the homeless, I did help out a homeless man last week. I was walking home from school when I spotted the homeless man. It was easy to tell that he was homeless because...well, of how he looked. We know what homeless people look like, do we not?

The homeless man was sitting down on the sidewalk and resting his back on a brick wall. Next to him was a silver can and a couple wrappers, which I assumed were from candies that he ate. I was curious just how much money he had in that can of his and went over to him.

I know that money is illegal in this small town, but I do not know how else to describe what I witnessed to you. I forced on a smile and peered in said can. I was expecting to not see anything. Who would ever want to give a homeless person money or food? I certainly would not. If they do not have any place to live, then they do not deserve money or food.

To my surprise, the small can was not empty. There was not much in it, but there were a few things, and those things were coins. Not coins that you are used to. These were bigger coins. Special coins if you want to call them that. There were no dollar bills. Just ten of these strange coins.

I held my breath as I got close to the man and hoped that he would not talk to me. Not only was this guy a stranger to me, but I did not want to talk to someone who was dumber than a stick. If homeless people are not smart enough to have a place to live and not wise enough on spending their money, then they ought to be kicked out of society. They should either be left to die or be arrested for being...well, homeless.

Little did I know then the truth about the homeless.

I was an idiot - a fool - for judging the homeless, but I was immature. I did not know any better. This man was no exception. Like everybody else in Forlot, I did not treat him with any respect. I thought that anyone who was not me was dumber than a brick and had to be treated as such. Even my mom and my classmates had to put up with my bragging. This is why I did not have many friends, and I do not blame them.

I think that Emily wanted to be friends with me only because she felt bad. She had no friends either, so we were a perfect match. Literally.

I did not want to mention this to you until the terror began, but I want to get it over with. There is a good reason why I allowed Emily to become my friend. My best friend. No. Not to have somebody my age listen to me and agree with my ego.

I have a crush on her.

I have had a huge crush on Emily ever since that she enrolled at the Forlot school. I love everything about her. Her looks. Her personality. Her voice. My gosh. Her voice sounds just like an angel. I would not have been surprised if she was an angel. That would be so cool.

Where was I? Ah, yes. The homeless man.

The man looked up at me - and unfortunately started talking to me. Both of his knees were pressed against his chest, and his arms were around his legs. He was young. I could tell by his dirty face.

"Hello," he greeted. His voice was scratchy. "What is your name?"

I narrowed my eyebrows at him and asked, "Why the heck do you want to know my name?"

He smiled. "I always enjoy learning the names of the people who come to see me. Makes me feel good that there are people out there who care about me."

I rolled my eyes. I used to do that a lot.

"What makes you think that I am here to see you?"

The homeless man examined me from top to bottom. "Well...you did stop and come over here. People who do not care for me and other homeless usually ignore us - or try to - and continue on their way. You should see the looks that they give us, and if they do not give us disgusted looks, they call us all kinds of names. It is a sad world that we live in."

I tilted my head to the side. "You know what is sad?"

"What?"

"That people like you exist."

He hesitated. "...excuse me?"

"You heard me. Homeless people should not exist."

"If you are saying that we should not exist because of the way that this twisted world works, then I agree."

I shook my head and picked up the can. I opened my hand and poured the ten coins into it.

"What do you think that you are doing?!"