Chapter one: Buildings
I knelt on the side of the giant apartment building. I peered down at the bright city streets. Though the stars hung sleepily in the sky, the city and all its residents were full of energy. I slumped back and admired the big, round moon. It towered over the busy world with an ominous glow, growing bigger every night until the cycle started again. I examined the craters and mountains on its white and grey surface. I wished, sadly, that it was the sun. I was cold and needed money to buy clothes. That was just the problem though, I don’t have any money. I don’t have a home. I don’t belong anywhere. I don’t have a family or friends. I need warmth and food. It’s not like I’m homeless because I spent it all on drugs and alcohol. I was simply tossed away.
I was eight when I was rendered homeless. I had been passed around to all the lonely couples in the city. None of them wanted me for more than six months. I was an orphan getting my only shelters from fickle foster parents. I was left on the doorstep of a church when I was a new-born. I can’t remember, but I think they loved me very much. They knew I wouldn’t be a very good nun, since I was too wild. They thought I’d be happier in a family. The high nun offered me to the people as a sacrifice, since the families paid the nuns fairly for their little girl. Though, as unlucky as it is, regular people wanted me less than the nuns. I don’t know quite how, but I ended up homeless. An old man who didn’t have a home either told me how to survive. He’d taught me too well and I out-warmed him one chilly November’s day. I found him dead from the cold the next day, I was only thirteen.
He was the only person who respected me. He told me that one day I’d be a lady, with a diamond tiara tucked into my raven-black hair. That’s the other thing. Everyone thought I was odd looking. It was because of my odd face. My skin was freckled and pail, my hair black as night, and my eyes an eerie evergreen. Some people thought I was a witch, others thought I dyed my hair like a little slag, and others thought it was simply an ugly combination. I grew up skinny, no matter what diets my freak parents put me on. When my homeless friend noticed me developing he laughed and said my breasts were possibly the only fat on my body, if they were even big enough to be described as fat.
Now, I sit here. I liked this place; it was a place with less people to judge me. I looked across the horizon of sky scrapers. I noticed another person on the rooftops. He held a beer bottle and swung around like a ragdoll. I couldn’t help but smile at his strange movements. I remembered when a nice person had given my old friend some money, and he went out and acted like that. He gave me only two dollars, enough for a donut and some coffee at the coffee shop that always had odd sales.
The man looked to me but didn’t react. He walked slowly to the edge of the building. I began to get scared as I noticed he was about to jump. I would have run to him but we were on two different buildings. I prepared to jump across, but I knew the only chance I had now was to shout. So, as I cupped my hands around my mouth, I shouted.
“Stop!” I screamed. He turned.
“Woo! Who cut your hair, a dog?” He slurred.
I shook my head. “Get away from the ledge!”
He looked away and ignored me. “Goodbye weird lady and the rest of the world!” He called out, opening his arms and letting his bottle drop the twelve stories.
I backed up and sprinted to the edge of the building. I put all my weight in to my legs and then whip lashed my energy, jumping from my building to his. I ran over to him a yanked him back from the back of his leather jacket. He stumbled and burped as he fell back onto the roof. I exhaled happily as he retched on the ground. He looked up to me, I looked down at him. We stared at each other for hours it seemed.
