What if I wasn't here

Im Still Awake

7:00am my usual time to wake up. At this time more people are awake and are on there way to there jobs, the activities that get paid for so that they can make a living and out of that living will come a life. Most of my days are spent wandering around the city looking at the sights or just watching the world go by from through my window. I work part time at a cafe on one of the backstreets that doesn't get much attention but it pays enough for me to be able to afford my rent and daily needs. My appartments not much to look at, there's a small kitchen with the basic appliances, one bathroom with a shower, a couch with a small box tv in front on a set of drawers and my bedroom. It's the only place I could afford to go with the small amount of money the foundation gave me. It may be run down and not much to look at but it's home, my own little run down corner of the world with peeling paint and the smell of cigarette smoke coming through from under the door. Sometimes I wish I could just leave this place and start over but every time I try to leave something inside me tells me to stay. What could possibly be out there for a girl like me, I'm better off where I am, out of the way from people who actually contribute to everyone's lives including there own. I give them the freedom to live their life without me interrupting. I would only be an unwanted distraction. I keep out off there way and try not to intrude in anyway possible, I stay in my little bubble and have given into the idea of being invisible.

I stay seated on my half torn cushion lining of my bay window, looking out over the streets below me. Cars are moving to and fro from one place to another with a purpose, they know exactly where they are going because they have been there a million times before. There goes the bus, number 911 if I remember correctly, and I do. It travels into the heart of the city, most of the people from my apartment complex catch it to get to the better bars in town no matter what the time of day. There are very few successful people who live in my area of the city, and if they did live here they would never admit to it they would rather block these type of people away. These type of people, the people who have made wrong choices in there lives and have ended up in this dump. Well at least they had a life to make bad choices in I didn't even get a chance, I had no choice but to come here, I didn't get a choice on where I wanted my life to lead. I'm pretty sure whoever is up there making decisions on my behalf already had my life planned out before I even arrived, an extra in the crowd, the one no one notices is even there. "Thanks a lot" I yell up to absolutely nobody, who would even be able to hear me, it's pointless.

I stand up from the window and close the faded curtains. I shuffle over to my door and stub my toe on the side of my bed on the way. I shift my feet into my boots, I can't even be bothered to put on socks, grab my keys, open the door to go for my morning walk, that usually ends up taking my entire day as I get caught in my own thoughts, what can I possibly be thinking about that makes time go so fast. Oh yeah life, blink, you miss it and it's gone there's no getting it back. That's why I always think living everyday as it comes is a great motto. If only I could use that advice for myself.

The musky smell of cigarette smoke overwhelm's me as I step outside my apartment. The floor freaks with my every step. Now just 9 flights of stairs to walk down, I say to myself. A cat meows as if it knows that I am in pain just thinking about having to walk up these stairs again when I get back. When will they fix that damn elevator, I swear it's been in repair for the past 7 years, and I haven't even lived here that long and I just know. The day that elevator is actually fixed is the day that pigs actually learn how to fly. You know what scratch that it's the day that my life actually gets a meaning as pigs flying is probably more realistic than that.