The A Team

Little Girl All Alone

{Danielle's POV}

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The breeze came in lightly from the other direction, brushing softly against my cheek, making it rosy red. My feet walk across the cold and empty sidewalk, though I was shoeless, I didn't seem to notice right then. I was lost in my thoughts , humming a tune to my favorite lullaby, and walking with a little skip in my step. The stars twinkling bright, the sky dark as night.

I was wondering freely through the streets, not a care in the world I kept walking. Rain drops dripped on my face, it felt cold, almost cold enough to sting. Immiturley, I danced in the rain, splashed in puddles, and got soaked as I did so. I guess I felt the need to act like a child again, to distract myself from the pain I was feeling inside. I had issues, issues you couldnt possibly imagine, issues that would melt your mind and soul if I told you. Honestly the only thing I needed was help. I always had that moment when I felt as though somebody is following me, I turned around.

Nobody was there. My anxiety was raising through the roof, I had a complete mental breakdown, it happens sometimes. I just sat there, in the middle of the street screaming and crying, stomping my feet on the ground, but as always nobody seemed to notice. Eventually I gained self-control, I got myself together, and srolled down the empty streets, in who knows where. You could say I was lost, in fact I knew I was lost, but nobody was even out at this time of night, and im not the best at asking for help, I just usually get myself into more trouble. I skip down the loney street, the rain was coming down harder, and colder then it was earlier.

I was freezing, and I hated the cold. Which is hard to believe since I grew up in Brooklyn, New York. In the winters of my long and playful childhood, I would love to go outside in the snow. One year after my Papa died I just locked myself in my room, only to come out for meals. I was disconnected from the outside world as my mom would say.

Me and my Papa were so close. My Papa owned a candy shoppe a few blocks from my old home back in New York, every afternoon, after school, I would walk down to the shoppe and do my homework, and talk to my Papa for hours at a time, then he would drive me home for dinner, and it would repeat. On the weekends I would help him at the Candy shoppe, the weekends were the busiest. I knew all the employees, and they always told me stories, of their adventures.

I broke from my daydream, I was smiling as a tear drop slide down from my bright blue eyes all the way down to my jawline. I was so cold, my hands were now purple and numb, right then I decided to get help.