The Dilemma

3. Just Smashing

       Alright, so this is just a small heads up. My laptop broke and there will be A LOT OF ERRORS IN THIS CHAPTER. Just letting you know, I'm saving my laptop for school purposes only. So errors will continiue throughout the next few chapters. Anways, thank you so much for reading and hopefully you can vote/comment if you liked what you read. Thanks so much! -Kaits     

      The sun was blinding, barely anything could be seen, despite the brightness of the sun. Glares were reflecting off the windows of the skyscrapers that stood up high and the sky. The zooming of motorized vehicles could be heard from the building ledge I sat on, an unwrapped sandwich settled on my lap. I still wasn’t exactly superhero material, seeing that occasionally I would screw up on my turns and slam into a building while flying. Then again, I would also end up breaking something fragile, just by picking it up. There were also benefits, the Government hadn’t shown up since that night at my house and I only showed up on the news once. If anything, I would consider myself extremely lucky.

                Then again, my current location was perfect. There were parks around every avenue, along with trees and buildings. Soho was my type of area, it was quiet and peaceful, and then again it wasn’t when there were parades in the area. The sparkles would take hours and possibly days to remove from my body, especially when I had no place to call home and I wasn’t fond of the homeless shelters. My clothes were battered and caked in dirt, except for my jacket. That was probably the item I cared for, besides a random IPod I found abandoned in a park. The musical device was nothing fancy and nothing like the new touches that were out, this one was well, probably a few years old.

                The only thing I had to complain about were the genre’s of music, then again I got used to the rap that played in a pair of headphones I found near a crammed garbage can. Obviously someone didn’t want them anymore, but another man’s trash is another man’s treasure. Let’s minus the man part, seeing that I’m only seventeen because realistically, I’m nowhere close to being a man. The area is civil though, especially when the heat becomes too much in the summer.  Pools are open daily and on a week daily, there is barely anybody in sight except for the occasional pedestrians. Oh, and before I forget, I do have a home now. Located on 14th Street, I reside on a small apartment roof top; however I don’t exactly have a room. All it consists of is literally a tarp and a blanket, nothing else. It really isn’t elegant, but it does the one thing that a custom build house is supposed to give; shelter.

                While the tarp and blanket offered heat and shelter, I was lacking in a serious amount of cash. Everything now a day was a lot, especially clothes and food and each day I was starting to look grimier and grimier. Hair dye was probably the most expensive on my part, but the only problem was that I needed to buy it, that way I was capable of having some sort of secret identity. I now went by the alias; Charlie Decker and no longer went by Blake. Blake Orion was no longer who I was, Blake was wanted by the Government, while I was just someone homeless kid without any parents to guide him. Before you judge me, it’s actually better than it sounds. There was no worrying, no curfew, and no school. There were no friends, no drama, and no rules. But, then again there hadn’t been any rules for a few weeks now. It was also safer this way, if nobody knew who I was, then I would be free of people’s judgment. There would be no ratting each other out,  only to find out that every person I encounter is just another stranger .

                It’s strange though, seeing someone as a stranger because in a way, you’re as much as a stranger to yourself, then they are to you. Certainly, I’m a stranger to myself and it’s obvious. I don’t know my future like I don’t know a random man I bumped into in a filthy subway. There was no way of telling what you’d be capable of in the next few years or who you will become. It’s a secret that is meant to be discovered and takes a lot of effort. Then again, keeping my identity was also a huge secret and I actually loathe secrets. As I stated before, they aren’t meant to be kept. Sure enough, somebody will end up spilling gossip that isn’t there’s to be told, resulting in fights, end of friendships, and loss of trust. If anything, secrets are a complete load of bad luck. All they do is put someone’s life in potential danger and I don’t need my life resting in the hands of the Government, waiting for them to choose my fate in which I either live or die. These very thoughts make me completely nauseous, knowing that any second could be my last, especially when there are over a million people located here, and only one of me.