After we ate our dinner, we threw the garbage from the windows like we do always. Trash cans are overrated. And like we do it all the time, it was "tell your crappy day" time. Everybody went one by one and told the things that happened to them. Jack was first:
"I had to wake up at three o'clock just to go to that interview. But they didn't like me. I can't get out of this place. And it kills me. I think I will start back. I don't want it." He grabbed his coat and got out. Jack was acting weird these days. His job was so tiring and he was looking for a new one. We were trying to make him comfortable but he felt like he didn't belong to Sunnyside. And he wanted to get out of this place.
Actually, noone wanted to belong to Sunnyside. It was poor, it was old. It was small and it was dangerous. It was a tiny tiny neighbourhood in the big and nice Houston. It was hot and dirty. It was nothing like Houston. I know it because I went to Houston once when I was sixteen. But then my foster family found me and I had to go back to the dumpster.
I am not saying that every part of it is bad. There is a part that has big houses and gardens and pools. Also a country club. And they have many security systems to keep away us. By us, I mean poor people and criminals. I am not a criminal. Some of my friends are.
Whatever, everybody told the bad things about that day. I told how an old man tried to steal three CDs. And I had to get back those CDs. Old people can be strong sometimes. That is the lesson of the day I guess.
