HOOKED

Chapter 4

My whole body, felt numb. And this time I mean physically. It was trembling and shaking from the bitter cold.

Opening my eyes slowly, it was very bright out. I saw a little layer of snow on ground. Crap. Getting up, I looked for my suitcase. It was nowhere to be found. I looked under the bench, and everywhere around it. There was money in there, clothes, everything I needed to live barely. And now I'm left with nothing other than my journal. Thank god, I fell asleep with that in my hand.

Anger filled my body. Why would some jerk take my suitcase, when they knew it was rightfully mine? Stupid jerk. I hope that person dies in a hole. Now all I have is the same clothes I was wearing yesterday. A t-shirt, pants, converse, coat and blanket.

I have nothing. I want to go home, but at the same time I feel like being cold will be better than there. The image of my mom's nose bleeding horrified me. There was so much cocaine. How could she even afford that? Questions and horrible thoughts kept going through my mind.

All my mom cares about is her stupid self. She doesn't even pay attention to how I'm feeling. Who ever killed my dad deserves to have as much pain he put me and mom are going through. I hate the person whoever killed my Dad. There the reason why I'm in this position.

My body was shivering, I grabbed my blanket and wrapped it up around myself, trying to get as much warmth as possible.

So much has happened had happened in the last four days.  Just too much.

"Excuse me miss, but did you sleep on this last night?" An old man with raggy clothes on asked.

"Uhh- yeah." I said quickly.

"Haha I've been sleeping on here for the past 25 years everyday" he laughed harder. What if I was homeless that long. I erased the thought out of my mind, it's just going to make me more depressed.

"Wow" I laughed a little. Even though none of this was funny.

"What's a beautiful girl like you out in the cold like this?" He asked sitting next to me.

"Well, my Dad died. " That word felt like a dream saying. I ignored his phrase 'beautiful', it was creepy but I didn't care. "He was murdered" my became a little voice shaky. The thought of my Dad being dead, still startled me. "And my mom she relapsed, so I ran away" I shrugged my shoulders and put my knees up and cuddled into a ball. I need more  warmth.

I don't really know why I told a stranger that my personal business.

"Well, I'll tell you what. I ran away too. I used to live in Michigan, but I ran here to New York City. I thought my dreams were going to come true or some shit like that. But that was the worse mistake of my life, you'll regret it forever" he said pointing at me making a little laugh. He's teeth were really yellow and he was wearing a gray hat. I should've brought a hat or at least something to keep my body more warm.

I know maybe, one day I'll regret running away. Hell, I regret running away right now. But, I'm never going back. I never want to see, Chelsea, my mom or anyone I know ever in my life again.

"How do you do it? How do stay in the freezing cold all night? During winter of course." I asked him for tips, realizing Christmas is coming soon. Damn it, I can't believe I abandoned my mom when Christmas is coming. She lost my dad and now me. Guilt crept upon my skin.

"You get used to it." He said plainly. He looked about in his 50s. Or something like that.

"Why'd you run away?" I asked quickly. I'm curious about this guy. It's not just everyday you meet a guy that used to live in michigan, and has been sleeping on the streets of New York City ever since.