Homeless Girl

Cassy

Everyone around me had it all.
I never realised just how lucky I was until I was ripped from my home and shoved on the streets. I cried for weeks, my life became a living hell. No one would help somebody like me, people were intimidated.

Winter was so close. The thought pained me, I wanted to die. Supposedly there's all these charities that are there to help people like me but they don't, it's all for publicity, nothing more.
My poor hands shrivelled against the icy wind, chills pouring down my back. I didn't deserve this life, I've always been a nice girl, never wronged anybody. Yet, all the nasty people in this world had everything, where is the justice in that? Times like these make me angry, my belief in god shatters. Everything is supposed to happen for a reason, right? That's what people say, but it's ok for them. They can say that whilst they sit at the supper table with a hot meal in front of them and a roof over their heads. They even have family. That's what kills me the most, I have nobody. Not a single friend.
Each night I struggle to find a shelter to huddle underneath, it's against the 'law' to stay in most places. The minute I approach a comfy looking shop corner or bus shelter my hope diminishes and is replaced with a street warren that warns me to scatter, otherwise I'd be taken to the station. It breaks my heart. I watch the world go by over and over again until my body finally crumbles into a restless sleep. My weak fragile body. I'd be lucky to get three-hundred calories a day.
One thing I've learnt is to NEVER take anything for granted because you never know what might happen next. Supposedly my parents are somewhere in the world, but I never knew them. Abandoned at the side of the hospital with nothing but my name tag, Cassy.
Orphaned all my life until I ran away from that cruel school, the things that went on there were despicable. Who really knows the truth of people's lives? No one is really that happy, it's all one big show. Everybody is superficial. You know how the saying goes. 'You don't know what goes on behind closed doors.'