Red Hourglass : Dark Coming Of Age Romance Thriller

Salvation

The day of the first freeze, Dave checked into a shelter for the winter. He showed me where it was so I could find him if I needed to.

One by one, all the street musicians disappeared from their usual spots. I knew they must've checked into shelters for the winter. I had no idea how I was going to make more money before Dave came out of hibernation, but that only strengthened my resolve to survive.

I missed our daily performances-and the regular income-but I'd been saving to tide myself over during the ice-cold months. I didn't need Dave to tell me that winter on the streets would be hard, but his suggestion did get me thinking. I realized I could go to a youth hostel and not be bothered by any authorities.

I checked into a hostel the first night it snowed. Having a hot shower and sleeping in a warm bed for the first time in months was glorious. I spent my days walking the streets looking for my mother, thankful for my winter clothes and a warm bed to sleep in.

* * *

I used up most of my savings on the hostel. By the first week of January, I was back to scavenging and sleeping in the subway. I found a pair of big winter gloves on a train, and I put them on over my other gloves for double protection against the cold.

I wandered aimlessly around subway stations, not knowing what to do. I was lost, like a body without a soul or a ghost devoid of love. My skin was practically sagging off my bones, and when I moved my limbs I felt aches and pains in my muscles and joints.

Stealing aspirin from bodegas and feeding on leftovers from trash cans and trays in fast food joints made me feel like a lowlife again. The worst part was that I was a complete nobody. I was an outcast, nothing more than lowly filth that society wanted to forget. I was a mere rat.

As I descended deeper and deeper into despair, I rarely thought of my mother. I could barely remember what she looked like.

One day, I saw a woman who reminded me of my mother-her golden hair, her bright smile, the familiar silhouette. She was getting on a train and I ran on after her.

"Mother, is it you?" I cried out as I grabbed both her arms and turned her around to face me.

At first, she looked at me quizzically, as if she was amused by a harmless weirdo. Her expression soon changed to one of disgust.

"You stink. Get away from me." She pushed me back and walked to the next car.

I was reminded of the terrible pain I felt when my mother disappeared. Her figure got smaller and smaller as she walked through the sunflower field toward the sunset on the horizon ... until I could no longer see her.

I gave up all hope of finding my mother in the city. My search is futile. The only thing keeping my body alive was my instinct to survive.

* * *

I was walking by a McDonald's and something caught my eye through the window. A teenage boy got up from a table without clearing away his tray. I ran in and grabbed his leftovers before the workers could stop me.

I stared at the digital watch on my wrist as I walked down the subway steps. It was the fifteenth of January. I sat on my usual bench under the dim subway lights and watched as the black numbers on the watch counted the last few seconds of the day.

Midnight. Happy seventeenth birthday.

I tore open the McDonald's wrapper and scarfed down the half-eaten cheeseburger. Then I gulped down the flat Coke. My birthday meal didn't stop my stomach from growling.

It was too cold to go back outside to search for more food, so I foraged through a nearby trash can. It was full of empty cups from Starbucks, sandwich wrappers, and plastic food containers, but nothing to eat. I'd have to be hungry until morning.