I sit up, lifting my head from the cold stoney floor beneath me, I've never had a good sleep and I never will do. When I look around me at the thriving city of London I wonder why I couldn't have lived a life like all the souls around me. People stroll pass me laughing, crying, screaming and yelling. None of them notice me, sitting here having learnt not to feel any form of emotion, if I hadn't developed this skill I shall be lying here in my sleeping bag crying. I hold up my beaten up coffee cup that I used so many years ago and wait for the sound of a dropped penny. Within a days work I gain a couple of pounds. Just to find out after going down to the nearest supermarket to buy some food all my spare change has been nicked. I don't understand why this society rejected me so.
From what I remember, this all started when my parents were shot dead. In a park when I was 7. I heard gun shots, I turned around and my parents are lying there, bleeding out. My fathers voice still echoes through my ears, "RUN!!!! RUN!!!!! Rurrrrr...." and his voice trailed off. I stumble, but do exactly as he says. I sprinted till my legs couldn't carry me any further, I fell over and passed out. The earliest I can remember since then is when I bought my first coffee, leading to me keeping this very cup and living the lonely life of a beggar...
I wake up every morning with a tear dropping down my face. I have a routine though, It's what actually keeps me standing and slowly dying on this miserable planet that we call earth.
My routine:-
1) wake up
2) hold up my cup and get money from random strangers.
3) once I've got enough money I head down to the supermarket and buy all the food and drink I can afford, I normally get a 250 ml water bottle and the cheapest sandwich I can find. On average I spend like £3 a day. But that's also my whole income every day.
Sigh... Forever Will I Be Alone???
