Who He Is

four

J

The first raindrop to fall today landed just a few feet away from me. It seemed to be laughing at me, laughing at the fact that I was thirsty as hell, willing to kill for a drink of water. I imagined licking the damn raindrop off of the ground or laying on my back with my mouth wide open in hopes another would fall. Yeah, I'm that thirsty.

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath in. My throat felt like sandpaper and the air that passed through my lungs felt like fire, a fire that flared a little more with each breath I took.
And my eyes, god my eyes are shit. I already can't see that well and the fist to the face the other day didn't exactly help.

I traced my fingers over my bottom lip, feeling the dried up, crusted blood that stuck to them, reminding me over and over of my shit life each time I felt it.

I then saw another raindrop. It was mocking me now.

My throat grew drier just watching it. All until two drops turned into three, and by that point it was pouring.
It hasn't done that in months, I thought with an ounce of hope in my beaten down heart that threatened to give out any day now. I wished it would fucking hurry.

I quickly got up to my feet, ignoring the soreness in my stomach from the blows I took to the abdomen and made my way from under the bridge to outside of it, finally feeling the cool drops of water hit my skin, freeing me.

I let out a sigh of relief, a sigh that I didn't know I had been holding in for so long. I walked with a slight limp to the back of the bridge where I kept a plastic container hidden in the bushes that I used to hold the rain.

I set it out in front of me after getting the bugs out, watching as the water filled it. I looked around at my surroundings while doing so; there was no one in sight. A few cars passed, but not nearly as much as they did during rush hour. God, I hated rush hour. Cars drive past me for hours, children point and their parents urge them to look away. It's an endless cycle of the same shit everyday.

But at least today there was rain.

It was torture watching the container fill up so slowly. My hands were shaky and my throat seemed to be closing up tighter and tighter with each passing minute. I chose to pick it up when it was only half full, and when I began to drink the rainwater my throat instantly began to open up. I gulped for what seemed like forever until the container was empty and my mouth was dripping wet. The dried blood that was earlier stained to my mouth was now floating at the bottom, mixed with the little bit of liquid that was left.

I set the container down after downing the rest and began to make my way back under the bridge to do what I do all damn day, sit and daydream.

As embarrassing as it is, and when I'm not getting the shit beat out of me, I daydream all day, every day. I daydream about what I could have been, mostly.

I would have liked to be something heroic, something like a firefighter or maybe a marine. Something that wasn't what I am now, a pathetic kid with no shoes and zero money. In my early days living on my own, finding a quarter on the ground was the best day. It meant I could go to the nearby cafe and get a gum ball from their machine. Obviously, I don't do that anymore. Now I dig through trash cans, typically the ones behind restaurants. God, It's amazing how much food people throw out in a day.

My heart stopped as I turned the corner to go back under the bridge. There was a person with a dark hoodie hovering over my shit, my shit. It wasn't much, but once it's literally all you have, it's important.