One in 12 Billion

1

Word count: 1533

There were too many people everywhere.

It was a thought that came to me constantly as I journeyed to school each morning. I walked, just a one syllable word that felt to foreign to my vocabulary. By foot was an odd way to travel, it was a literal lower level to those who could afford to take the skyway.

Out of sheer curiosity, I peered up -no skyway above. Not surprising.

"Please help me." The voice came from the distance, a small croak in the hectic, silent delights of a Tuesday morning.

I followed it, the length is was away, the angle of depression that led me straight to its source. An average build man, hair long and ungroomed, with arms raised and hands cupped like a dish.

"Anything you have," he repeated, still silent and to each person that he came into contact with.

A boy, who didn't look much older than I approached next, hood raised. Dark skin and brown, sullen eyes were the only thing in view. His doleful expression was supported by his hunched stance, and hand stuffed rigidly in his pockets.

Giving a quick side-ways glance to the beggar, he continued on this straight path. No fiddling of hands for change, no pitiful smile (in fact no change in emotions whatsoever). "Anything?" the mysterious teenage enquired. "Anything at all?"

The upturned face of the seated man was now drilling into the boy who was almost directly in front of him. "Yes, I knew there was hope for this generation."

There was a small amount of glee that was attached to his statement, and his peered upward awaiting his alms like a child receiving pocket money. For the first time, the boy made a movement. His right hand left his pocket, he swiftly raised it, and flipped off the expectant man that lay in front of him.

I chuckled in my head then stopped myself. That was cruel. But social etiquette. was the least of my problems now. I was next.

I knew that I was. Whether or not I had money wasn't my concern, but rather how to avoid him. The floor became my view as I sped past the man, his vision burning into my side.

"Sucks to be you," I whispered softly as I passed the man, but thinking back to all those that I had passed this morning, none of them would agree. Whether it be the bus stops, a minimum of twenty people, or the rows of sleeping bags to can spot as the pass the small corners of the streets, everyone's lives sucked.

Continuing along the road, I looked at the old shop signs that sat, half-there, on the front. 'Family Grocer's' one read, following to the inside, it was impromptu housing. A line of 8 bunk beds, with belongings strung everywhere. It was reminiscent of the housing that children would keep if they received no reprimand from their parents.

They were dark and dismal quarters, suitable for the dismal street they lay on.

Now that I'd traverse the entire corridor, I stood slightly breathless outside of my classroom. A gaggle of students past me. Their height and travel patterns alone suggested to me that they with year sevens, three years younger.

Another person from my form emerged from the staircase. We expressed short pleasantries as I allowed her to enter before me.

"Noire!" I heard a shriek of excitement from Noire's squad as soon as she entered.

I waited until the door turned green again, showing that it could indicate my presence, then stalked into the classroom. It was the first day back from a new year, but most people were conversing as if they hadn't seen one another for years.