The Life of a Hobo

Chapter 1 - How It All Started

Every day was the same for me. I walk down the same old street with a shopping cart that I took from a Target. All of my belongings was in there. Everyone wants to be rich. We also idolize rich people. It's quite funny actually. People sit at home watching T.V. or going on the internet to see what is new in rich and famous people's lives.

I watch children, sometimes even adults, go up to famous people and drool over them, but when people see me, they stare. They speed walk past me. It was almost as if they thought I was monster. Parents cover their children's eyes as they walk past my tent. I did nothing wrong. I just lost it all when the stock market crashed in 2008.

My old life was quite glamourous actually. My parents sent me to the most elite schools they could find. I ended up getting in Stanford and became a lawyer. I had a great career, winning several Supreme Court cases. I made what most people would call the big bucks.

My wife Lucy was amazing. She use to cook all day. I loved coming home to the smell of whatever she was making for dinner. Out of everything I lost, I miss her the most. She grew up in downtown Detroit with her parents and three brothers. They lived check by check, rarely buying something for pleasure.

Lucy moved out to Los Angeles to become a chef. She worked for a restaurant called Collins Steakhouse for four years until she bought it out. Within the next six years, there were over 10,000 franchises world wide. We ended up selling the company for over a three billion dollars. It was actually Lucy's idea to sell the company. She was pregnant with our first child and stated that she wanted to be a stay at home mom instead of a CFO.

Which brings me to our three beautiful children, Sophia, Vanessa, and Zach. Sophia was our oldest. She was six. Then came Zach a year after Sophia. You could say Vanessa was a surprise to everyone if you get what I mean. Vanessa was two and a HALF. She always emphasized the fractions. Lucy and I loved each of them with all of our hearts.

I know, I know. You're all wondering what happened to Lucy, Sophia, Zach, and Vanessa. Most of you probably think Lucy left me after we lost everything and took the kids. Trust me, I wish that was the case, but it's not. People began to freak out when they learned they lost everything. Hell, I was so stressed out I blacked out.

My community was broken into by people trying to get some money to be sure they can feed their families. My mansion was broken into by a father and a son, each holding a gun unsteadily. I didn't know anyone was in the house until I heard sweet Sophia scream. Instinctively, the four of us ran to Sophia's room to see what caused her to scream. As we ran in, the father who was about fifty year old turned his gun towards me and yelled at us to put our hands above our heads. We all complied. "You can take anything you want, but please, leave my family alone." I paused trying to convince him not to hurt them. "They're only children."

Sophia's face was swollen and stain with tears. "I-I-I'm s-sc-a-ar-red-d, D-D-add-ddy!" she stammered. "It's going to be okay, baby," I reassured her. How I wish I could have kept my promise. Sophia started crying hysterically which caused her asthma to start kicking in. "Shut the fuck up or I'm going to shot you," screamed the son who must have been around seventeen years old.

"Please, she has asthma. She needs her inhaler," Lucy begged. "I said fucking shut up you stupid bitch!" *Boom* It was almost like slow motion. It felt like thousands of years but was really only about two seconds. The boy shot the love of my life in the chest. I begged God to let her be okay. Vanessa began screaming as she saw her mom bleeding out on the floor. "Mommy!" exclaimed Sophia as she ram toward Lucy to tend to her. She always was so good at taking care of us when we were sick or had a wound. I thought Sophia was going to be a doctor when she grew up.

*Boom* The boy shot Sophia in her forehead. My heart sank as I watched her body become lifeless. *Boom boom* The boy shot Vanessa twice in the chest for screaming. Zach was red with anger. He charged toward the teenage boy. He was always so protective of his sisters, even though Sophia was older than him. I saw the father beginning to aim at Zach and I tackled him. We fought on the floor.

Before I knew it, I heard another noise. *Boom boom boom* I looked at Zach, expecting to see bullet holes in his body. I tried to assess his wounds to see who would need the most attention. All of us were going to be okay I tried to convince myself. However, it wasn't Zach who was shot. It was me. I was shot three times in my mid right torso to lower right torso.

Blood poured out of me and black dots started to appear in my vision. Zach was fighting the teenage boy. He continued to punch the boy over and over again. I knew those boxing lessons were going to pay off. The boy dropped his gun as Zach was ferociously punching him. I grabbed the gun and shot the boy straight in between the eyes. I use to be one of the best long distance shooters in America when I was in high school. The military tried to recruit me but that wasn't what I wanted to do with my life.

Within seconds the boy laid on the floor dead. I barely saw it because I was barely conscious due to the extreme blood lose I had. I last thing I saw was Zach's body being shot about eight times. I tried to help him and stop the man from shooting, but I was unconscious within half a second.

God, I hate thinking about that day. It's the day I lost everything. Now you know that when I say everything, I don't just mean my money and house. I mean everything that had any meaning to me.

This isn't one of those books about a success story or some romance story. This is real. It's not just some fake stuff that always ends it sunshines and rainbow. I'm writing a journal about my life as a homeless person so that all those people who cover their children's eyes as they pass me and pretend like I don't exist will understand that I'm not just some lazy person who needs money for drugs. I'm nothing you think I am.