Broken Wings

The Routine

Wind nipped at my black torn tenne shoes as I clutched the bags of things and my jacket that was barely in decent shape to keep me warm. It was night, and people were scattering up and down the streets for the safety of their cozy homes.

But once again I was alone. In the dark, no where to go.

I had no home, I killed my parents a few years ago, and I was just released from the 2nd asylum, and I knew no one, and I never had the chance to get a job because of my reputation, and I never had enough money to get a house, nor a car. I just walk everywhere. Not a big deal.

I turned into a dark alley, and undug a backpack, with a few of the things I had left of the time I lived safely.

Some food, a couple pairs of outfits, and another torn up pair of black and red tenne shoes, and two pairs of socks.

I took out a pair of black sweatpants, and I went into a corner and took off my pants, still wearing underwear, and slipped them on.

I usually sleep in these clothes, to let me blend in at night so I didnt get caught. They would probably send me back. Or into a shelter.

NEVER AGAIN will I go back to a shelter.

Err.

I lerked to the corner of the alley, taking my stuff with me, and layed down on a broken matress as springs scratched my skin, poking my body. But it was better than nothing. The neighbors here just threw a matress out here.

I wish I could thank them.

I took off my jacket, leaving my bear arms out in the chilly wind, my black shirt filled with cold air, making my body shiver.

I layed back down and used the jacket as a blanket the best that I could, and folded my arms and rested my head on my arms. I closed my eyes to the street lights and the blast of air from cars rushing by.

This was my every night after a few months, It was a normal routine.

I don't really like to live out here, but I dont mind.

I just gotta hide. And that was easy if you have had practice.

The street lights slowly dimmed out of sight, and soon enough I was fast asleep.