Lost

Chapter 1

One dreary winter night after another I sat on the cold,red curb, my slightly knotted back against the perfectly carved street light. Pulling over my head the only hoodie I owned and wrapping around my body a fleece blanket a man had dropped off that day. I counted the money my aching hands were holding. Sharp pains from exhaustion crept through my hands after every strum. I've lived this way for awhile, I played guitar on the street corner by the market everyday for 7 hours. That was the only item I took with me between all the orphanages, I sang to all of the other orphans to make them feel better. Though I wasnt a very good singer, they seemed to like it which made me like it. I actually make quite a bit of money for a homeless person, around $30 a day. The local baker gives me all of that days excess bread because he makes new bread daily so I never had to buy food. I'm saving up for an apartment. I want to have at least 4 months rent paid so I can focus on getting a real job. I've been sitting on the same street, under the same street light for 100 days.

"1,000 dollars left." I mumbled to myself adding the $30 to the other $2970 in my guitar case.

I clicked the guitar case shut and went to sleep.

The next morning I woke up at around 7:30, ate some bread from the night before, grabbed my guitar and walked about 3 blocks to the local market. I plaid from 8:00-3:00 just like normal, except this time it was different. Every time I examined the crowd, the same guy would be standing there. A sharp looking fellow, he looked to be about my age. He had on Kaki pants and a black, crew-neck sweatshirt. It said something about hipsters but I can't remember exactly. He was kind of cute. But he scared me. He just had that vibe.

Clock struck 12 and it was time for my break. The curly-haired boy approached me. I didn't say anything, just nibbled on some bread I kept in my coat pocket.

He just sat there for about 5 seconds bitting his lip until ...

"Uh- hi. I'm Harry." Harry. Cute name for a cute boy.

"And I'm homeless." I snapped back. His eyes widened in confusion.

"Sor-sorry. Long day. Hi I'm Zoëy but you can call me Zoe." I nibbled on some more bread. Harry took a seat next to me. I guess he felt me tense up because he scooted a little farther away.

"So, Zoëy but you can call me Zoe, why do you play guitar?" He immediately looked as if he just regretted what he had said, "I mean, you're really good,but wasn't there anything else you could do?" I giggled.

"Again, I'm homeless. And it actually has a good pay. In about a month I'll have enough money for 4 months rent on an apartment. So, Harry, what do you do?"

"I'm a photographer. But besides that, I have an empty room in my apartment. I'm more of a volunteer though. I let the homeless stay into apartment until they get their financial situation sorted out. It won't cost you a penny!"

"Harry, I- I- cant. That's too much to ask."

"It's perfectly fine." He grinned felling good about himself.

"Are you sure?! I mean it's kind of a big deal."

"I'm positive Zoe. Look me in the eyes. It's perfectly fine."

I sure did look him in the eyes. His deep green, sparking orbs. I could just get- SNAP OUT OF IT ZOE AND RESPOND TO HIM.

"Oh, okay." A smile exploded on my face. A home. A bed. A place I could call mine.

I stood up wiping off the mudd on my butt from the stairs. Grabbing my guitar I smiled. Wait, what if this wasn't going to work, what if I ended back up on the streets? Ill have to find out the hard way, It was worth a shot.