Helpless

The place was bright from the different lights coming from the establishments, noises from the engines of vehicles and from people who are passing by. Some look at me with disgust, some with pity, and some stop to give me money or food. These are the daily happenings in my life. Is it bad to hope that someday my faith could change? That I could escape this miserable life of mine?

During morning, wrapped in thread bare clothes, pushing my trolley, I roam around the city searching for food, knowing that the food people give me is insufficient. There is one vendor whom I am very grateful to. I always stop by her stall to get the food she sets aside for me. It was when she saw me in the streets staring at nothing when she approached me and gave me food. We got along with each other so easily. We became close friends. She told me her story and I told her mine. I discovered that she came from the Bronx. Life there was difficult. She left her family behind. Her parents, husband and two daughters to come here in New York and be a shop owner. Her life was simple. The life I wish to have. Not something like this. I was still a child when I lost my mother. She died of Lung Cancer. She acquired it from the smoke coming out of the engines of vehicles. I didn’t have the chance to meet my father. Mother said he left us when mother lost her job. He went to his other woman. Our life became tough; consequently we ended up here in the slums.

‘FOR SALE’. The sign read as I arrived in front of her stall. The place was empty. Not even a single thing inside it. She left without saying goodbye. My savior left me. She was my only friend. My first friend. The only person whom I can talk to apart from my mother. A single tear escaped my eye. It felt like I lost my mother all over again. I guess it’s just me then. Night came and I need to return to my spot in the streets or else, someone else will occupy it.  Just like previous events, people pass me by.

Smiling. That is what I observe with those people. I envy them. How could they smile in spite of their problems? How can they do that? Do I have a bigger fish to fry than them? I think fate is cruel. I’m sick of this. People judging me because of the way I look, throwing horrid looks on me, some even say unpleasant words to me. Why? What did I do to them? Have I offended them? All I remember is just being a hobo. They are angry at us because we‘re eyesores. I just brush them aside.  Is it our fault that nobody wants to accept us due to our lack of education? Politicians here are wolves in sheep’s clothing. They are only just good in words and not in action. They promised us poor free education so that we can find an occupation that will lead to a nicer life, for a better future. But where are they? Taking a bath in their tub filled with money that is intended for unfortunate people like us. Where is our right? I’m not a bonehead, well not at some point. I know that people like us still have the rights to have a better life. I’m tired of this. Depending on people and with their help. I know my ambitions wouldn’t take me anywhere. Dreaming for a better life, having a simple house to shelter me, food that will fill my empty stomach, clothes that will keep me warm at night. But that’s the only thing I can do; however I know that someday when the right time comes, I will get a job and achieve the life I dream. Then again, for now I’m just a helpless and homeless orphan.