"I just want to be home,
a place where I can belong"
Overcrowded, different scents of sweat lingers in the air, I made my way through the stampede of people. I've been here for days, trying my luck to be listed, to be chosen. I'm one of those homeless people they're calling.
A wanderer of the streets, the world has been my playground as a kid. When I got picked up by social workers, I had lived in different foster homes. But I outgrew the system, I became a legal adult -- time to leave the care of those homes.
When I left, I have no one to ask help from. I know nobody on the outside world. The foster homes I've lived were some of the worst in the state, with some lacking in facilities, others neglected right juvenile care. So I was left to fend for myself. I learned the hard way, bruises and cuts were some of the evidences. But the worst was emotional pain. Having your dreams crushed right in front of you is never a pleasurable experience.
My parents were not the best there is in the world. Mom was a woman being paid for comfort by so many rich men and my father, well I have no idea who my father is. He could be the mayor once, or a businessman, or maybe an old military guy -- I don't know, my mother never bothered to look for him because if she did I wouldn't be wandering around.
When I was seven, I learned to run away from home. My mom wasn't always home and if she is, she's either drunk or high with dope, so it was easy to leave. For a year I lived under bridges, some dumpsters and across the streets. Then social workers found me.
At first I thought I would find a home with them -- I hear stories of kids just like me having better lives because they were adopted by rich families. I thought I could be one of them but I was wrong. It was still a hell hole living in different kind of foster homes. But I convinced myself that it would be better, I just have to endure.
And now here I am, trying my luck in job fairs -- wishing I could get picked. Even if I lack the best education experience, I'm still hoping....
Maybe, just maybe, when I have a job I could afford to continue my education and then find a better work and settle... Settle someplace I could call my home...
-ds-
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Collectanea
General FictionWhen you've got no one to talk to, you tend to have a gazillion of thoughts... At one point you think your head would explode so you pour them out on a blank paper, creating a masterpiece and when you're done, maybe you'll stash them somewhere compl...
