He Saved Me. (COMPLETE)

Chapter 2

One week later~

I woke up on the hard concrete ground. Not very comfortable with all the rocks, ants, and dirt surrounding you. Not to mention the people staring. You get used to it though. I had about $7 left, of the $20 that the young man gave me. I used it to buy some food, and some things I needed to keep myself clean. Like toothbrush and toothpaste and deoderant. You're probably wondering where do I brush my teeth, I use the park public restrooms, Mcdonald's bathrooms, and places like that. Even though i'm homeless, I don't try looking like one. I have a backpack full of my old clothes and I have a pair of combat boots and a pair of vans. I save the quarters that are given to me, so I can go to the laundromat and wash my clothes. I hated being filthy, but when you're homeless you can't avoid it, but I try my best to stay clean. I learned to be responsible for myself when I was 11 years old.

My mom became depressed, so she didn't do anything. Most of the time she just layed in bed. There were days where she didn't get up to eat. I had to make her small meals, and i'd have to beg her to take at least two bites of a sandwich. I knew something was wrong with her. I became the one who cooks meals so my Dad wont come home and beat my mom. I washed clothes and cleaned the house. I did all the household chores you can think of. That was my childhood, I had to come home from school to cool and clean, so my mom wont get beat. Some days I didn't even do my homework because of the chores. I was only 11.

But I guess it's kind of a good thing. I learned responsibility.

Today was clean up day. I go to the homeless shelter, they let me take a shower and feed me. I had washed my clothes the day before so I had clean clothes to change into. I put on my floral dress, my mini jean jacket, and zip up my black beaten up combat boots. I pull out a small, pink princess brush from my back pack. As I brush my hair memories from when I was a child came to my mind. Every night before bed, my mom used to brush my long dark browm hair, and sing to me. She would tell me she loved me and kiss me good night. It all stopped when my Dad started to abuse my Mother. I kept the brush since then to remind me of the happier times. When I finshed brushing my damp hair I braided it to the side and tied it up with a rubber band. I grabbed my black guitar, and went back to my usual spot where I go and ask for money. I liked it there, people would always pass by and I had shade from the tree I sat by. I leaned my cardboard sign on a rock. I sat behind it and play Rosarie. People pass by, most drop coins in my guitar case, and some drop dollar bills.

The sun is setting as I count my money. $5.62. I could do so much with this. Then a familiar car drives up. The window rolls down. It's the young man. He has his glasses on, which I find peculiar because the sun is almost gone. He holds out his hand and hands me a $20 bill. I grab it and he starts the car. "Wait, why are you giving me this? Who are you?" I ask. He smiles and drives off. I was so confused. I didn't know what to feel. Should I be scared? Should I be happy? I really paid no attention to it though, as long as I had money. I pulled out a sweater from my backpack and layed on it. I used my backpack as a pillow and went to sleep.

__________________________________

For the next chapter I need 4 votes and 3 comments :) ~ariana xoxo