Part Five: Darren
The sun blinded me as my eyes had fluttered open. I realized I was still on the man and I quickly got myself up on my elbow, again. When I looked at him again, he was opening his eyes, he too being blinded by the sun.
He had a black sweatshirt on, his hood covering his head. He wore old, baggy jeans and dirty sneakers. I looked at his face. He had a perfect, square jaw, a--partially long--nose, and beautiful, blue eyes. His skin was a tannish color and he had light brown stubble on his face.
"Mornin'," he said, sitting up.
"Morning," I said back.
I turned to get my stuff and got to my feet.
"Thank you," I said.
I think he had just realized, when I stood that I was pregnant because when he saw my stomach, he stood up also.
"I'm Darren," he said. Held out his hand.
I shook it and then said, "I'm Jo."
He smiled and said, "You going anywhere specific?"
"Nope, I just never stay in the same place. I keep walking," I explained.
"Would you mind if I came along with you? I haven't really interacted with anyone for awhile now," He asked.
"Of course, I don't mind. It's the same for me," I smiled.
Throughout the whole day, we walked. He told me of his many stories and I told him mine. We seemed to have a lot of the similar situations on how we made it to this city and why we are living out on the streets.
"Why are you living on the streets anyway?" He asked me.
"Well, it's a long story," I said.
"I've got time," he smiled.
I laughed.
"Okay, well, one night I went out with my boyfriend," he looked away when I said that, down, "And, he raped me, right in the parking lot. I got home at about seven in the morning. My father yelled at me and, then he went to work--"
"Your father, was he the one to always yell?" Darren asked.
"Yea, he was never really a father to me. He seemed more like a boss. I don't think he even loved me," I explained.
Then, I went on to my story again. He listened. I have never met anyone who actually wanted to listen before. I was happy that he did.
"So what happened to you?" I asked.
"Well, my parents, they're drug and alcohol-addicts. They really never paid attention to what I needed and I didn't know anyone else that I could stay with so one day, I just left. I didn't look back. I doubt they have even realized I left, yet," he looked down chuckling.I could tell he hid the tears under the mask of that laugh.
I didn't laugh with him. It was sad enough for him to be laughing at this. But, I didn't bring it up, on why he laughed-- I wouldn't.
