Weirdoes, Idiots, and Awkward People

Chapter One

I stand there, on the edge, waiting. I look down and see the lights of the cars passing by, the tall buildings, the lights from rooms that contain people doing late night work. There are Christmas lights all around the city, making it even brighter. I see people walking quickly through the city trying to get home from a long day at work or maybe late night Christmas shopping. People in my opinion are too excited about this time of year. I mean maybe it’s just me because I don’t have anyone to actually spend this holiday with, but I mean I just don’t really get it. I mean this time of year sucks. It’s cold and snowy and everyone is getting sick. It actually sucks a lot. But then again I hate the summer too, I hate the heat I think way more then I hate the cold, but whatever. 

I sit on the edge waiting. A cold breeze blows through my white, as some people would say platinum blonde, hair. I’m freezing, it might be the fact I’m sitting here wearing a pair of black leggings, my aunts way over sized sweater with the weirdest design on it, and a pair of old black high top converse, but at this moment right here I don’t care. Its beautiful, the view. Everything is so peaceful. But what am I waiting for, in all honesty I don’t even know. But everyday I come here, and wait. Maybe I’m looking for a sign. You see I’ve been thinking about running away from home right when spring starts. It wont be as cold and it wont be super hot so it would be easy for me to just… run.  I live with my Aunt and my Uncle who really have never ever wanted kids and so right when my parents died and they were told I had to stay with them, they automatically hated me. My aunt is a drunk who is always wearing way too much makeup and wears the sluttiest clothing all the time. I’m pretty sure she is having an affair with the mail man, and I’m also pretty sure my uncle knows about it, but in all honesty I don’t think he really cares. My uncle has a drug problem. And he is also a drug dealer. So he does drugs and he sells them. My uncle isn’t best in the city or anything but he sells the drugs for a pretty decent price so if you don’t want the expensive stuff you come to him. If you were wondering why I know all this information its mainly because the only fun thing to do in this stupid house is eavesdrop. The thing is I don’t really care at all that my aunt is a drunk who is cheating on her pot selling husband or the fact that if I jumped off this building right now neither of them would care, I just really hate the smell of there house. The smell of smoke, liquor, and very strong French perfume is all you smell when you walk into their house. It’s awful. I can barely sleep most nights because of it and I think I’ve thrown up 10 times already. Maybe that’s why I like it up here, the fresh air, the peace and quiet, I love it. I’ve come up here for three weeks now and I’m still waiting for that sign… maybe this is the sign I’ve been looking for to stay, but then again I could always find another building to climb up and watch the view over anywhere I go.  Then I hear it, the sound of the door to where I am opens. A gust of cold wind blows slamming the door shut. I quickly turn around to see if the person who opened the door was all right. The door did shut pretty quickly I mean that could possibly take you arm off if you weren’t careful. I turn around to see a boy about my age lying on the ground. He slowly pushes up on his arms and looks up at me.

“Are you alri…”

“DON’T JUMP!” he yells interrupting me “YOUR TOO YOUNG TO DIE, I MEAN I KNOW LIFE SUCKS RIGHT NOW BUT TRUST ME IT GETS BETTER I PROMISE! I MEAN THAT’S WHAT PEOPLE HAVE TOLD ME, AND IF IT DOESN’T GET BETTER ME AND YOU CAN JUMP TOGETHER… WAIT SCRATCH THAT I MEANT…”

“I wasn’t going to jump.” I say interrupting him.

He gives me the most shocked look ever. He’s still laying on the ground his arms holding him up.

“Oh…” he says almost sounding disappointed. “I saw you when I was running, and I swear I thought you were going to jump.”

He stands up and dusts off the dirt that got on him. He was tall, not super tall but in my opinion tall, but I guess everyone is tall to me since I’m short. He had basketball shorts on and a big baggy grey sweatshirt that had a little black Nike sign on it. He had longish brown curly hair and he had brown eyes and a long slim face. He was on the skinny side but he was in shape. In my opinion he was beautiful. I mean I had looked at people and watched them for years but never in my life had I seen a boy as beautiful as him. Maybe because most of the guys who you see in New York are workmen, homeless men, and then there was always people who look like my uncle…ugh.