Homeless

Chapter 4

{Warning, there is some sensitive and mature language in this chapter. It is very quick.

It's been 2 week since I last saw Sebastian. Maybe he think's I'm creepy, after looking over him like that–. I blush, and shake off the thought. It's probably later than I'm supposed to be up. Not that I have a specific time which I go to sleep. I mostly just fall asleep when I feel tired. I'm a pretty light sleeper, and every little noise of the wild forest used to bother me. I got used to it by now. It's been almost 8 years since I started living in this tent. I've had to replace it once, and I have about 3 patches up on the roof, flaps, and sides. Overall though, it's protected me from rain mostly. The tent is pretty hidden, I'm lucky that my parents left the garage open when they left. I might have slept out in the cold rain, and snow if they hadn't done that. It doesn't snow much here, every January or February you get a little snow, but the snowflakes tend to melt after reaching the earth. It rains a lot though. The forest is luscious, for that reason but,  it's a bit annoying to live in. I like the sound of rain, it's just a bit loud on the tent roof while sleeping. I don't know how much sleep I actually need. I think my body has kind of evolved to survive. For 4 years, my only goal was keeping myself alive. I was worried about wolves, people, and boys. I lived in a different part of the forest before. It was common for people to threaten, swear at me, or even assault me back then. When I was around 13 or 14, I decided it was better to move deeper, higher into the forest. It was a farther walk to the spring and to berry hill, but it was safer. Now that I live there, I haven't had actually any interactions with humans or wolves. A few birds, squirrels, and even raccoons have come around, but they sniff my tent and leave. "Oh, how I'm tired." I say, then wondering why I said it like that. I tend to do that. When talking, (talking, which is quite rare itself) I always think about, why I phrased my words a certain way. In Telonian, like english, there are several words that can mean 1 word; synonyms. Like in French, there are many ways to conjugate the verbs, and place the verbs with the nouns differently, and lastly, like in Latin, the nouns are conjugated as well. I could've switched the verb and noun around if I wanted to, I could switch the tone of my voice to sound more or less condescending. I could decide whether the words that leave my lips have good connotations, or bad ones. I sigh. What if those interviewers could give me a chance whether or not I have had a school degree. Ever since I got a library card at around age 12, my world literally changed. I started following the primary, and secondary school curriculum, as well as learning random things. It's been so boring living here for 7 years, that books were the only things that could entertain me. I don't have money for a phone, or gaming console, so I just read. That's a lie. I have actually used a computer before. There was a book on coding, chips, and motherboards. I tried using the Library computers, but downloading the software needed to code, was restricted. I gave up on coding on a computer, but I ended up learning a lot, even without a laptop or computer. I smell something, a smell of flowers, the ones you see before fruits sprout. I see a pre-pumpkin patch. The yellow flowers, shine in the sun in front of me. "Where am I?" I whisper softly. I look around, this isn't Duarta. I couldn't tell if this place was on the island of Telonia either. Only having visited about 3 villages including Duarta, I am probably missing out on a lot of telonia; especially the capitol. I've heard some of the girls speaking of Flame; a popular boy band of the capitol. I actually know pop culture too... Believe it or not, there are books on pop culture. I learn about the latest trends on fashion, politics and music. Flame is actually so famous, they have been on some of the bulletin boards around the 3 villages I have visited. A group of 6 boys around the ages of 18-20. I don't own headphones, so I couldn't listen to any of their songs, but I'm guessing they can sing well having that many fans. The pumpkin flowers gradually turn into large, orange pumpkins. I see a figure of a man. "Are you my–" My eyes suddenly open. Above me is Sebastian–I think. His fingers reach for a piece of my hair I don't say anything until he slides it to the side of my face. I am not angry he's hair but... I quickly say "I'm not bad because this is exactly what I did to you." He jumps back surprised; just like I jumped back a couple weeks back. I get up. "It's been a while." We exit and I motion for him to sit down on the logs right outside my tent. We sit across from each other; a block of wood, and ash sits in between us, used as a fire. We talk a little bit, but it's kind of awkward. I don't blame him though, what do you tell someone you've only really known for less than a month. He then randomly asks me "How did you become homeless, if you want to tell.." "It's not like you can do anything whether you know or whether you don't know what happen, so sure why not. When I was born... my parents actually enjoyed my company, or at least they acted like they did. They would smile, and laugh around me up until maybe I was 5?" He nods and listens very carefully–I think. "It was mostly my dad around me actually, I don't know why my mom would never hang out with me. But around my 5th year alive, when I made mistakes, my dad would start to... you know punish me." Sebastian's eyebrows raise a little bit. I continue, "He would always, I guess lecture me, forcefully, but it was out of love before tha–" He interrupts me. "Can I ask how you remember all this? You were so young." "That's kind of a mystery, let me show you something." I walk around to behind my tent. There is a small black chest. I open it with the key I carry in my boots, and I force the old lid open. In it there's tiny little leather bags, and I search underneath them and I take out a journal. I show it to him. "My memories?" "Yes, the day I ran away, this was left on my dresser, I couldn't read cursive then, but when I learned to later, I read the different pages. It was written from my perspective, but I didn't write it. Somebody I guess wrote it for me." "That's really creepy? Could it be a stalker?" "Maybe.. but I just keep it there, it might come for some use eventually. I don't know when, but I just... can't bring myself to get rid of it." "I see.." "Should I continue" "Yes please!" He shouts without hesitating. Like a child in kindergarten story time. He covers his mouth blushing then says "what its interesting >.<" I laugh then continue. "The punishing slowly grew to be physical. By the time I was 7, it was... quite violent. It wasn't even for mistakes, it was just, kind of whenever he saw me. I have some scars on the back of my neck, from the...you know..the whip. I always hold my neck when I'm embarrassed. I squeeze the back of my neck behind my hair to hide the scars. I don't know why, the hair covers it but it's kind of a habit. Anyways, it gets to the point where I can't take it anymore, I would bleed everyday, and I got kind of worried, that this would lead to my death, but it was like I couldn't run away. I was stuck with him even though he scared me. For some reason, my child-self held him still, deep, deep, down in my heart. I then overheard my dad talking on the phone. 

{Bit of a sensitive or uncomfotable conversation coming up, it will be fast though :)}

There was this old brothel, that the journal says my dad was talking to." "YOU WORKED AT A BROTHEL?!" he exclaims louder. "Well yes, but I didn't exactly work as a ...you know. I was just at the front desk." "Can I ask what happens in there..." "W-why do you want to know.." He blushes suddenly "I'm just you know..curious?" curious huh? "It was pretty chill though, unlike some movies depict them. I just signed in different girls, and boys in and showed them where they'd be staying. I worked there for about 3 years, and I actually earned a fair amount of money. The government shut it down though." "Did you hear any weird conversations?" "You are very nosy...no not really, not that I can remember." "O-oh" It's awkard again, I'm still a bit confused on why he was so curious about the place. He then breaks the silence a few moments later,  "Can I ask where your mom was?" "Oh...the journal never said anything about that, but I just remember the door to her office was always "I'm busy." I've tried to enter, but the door was always locked. I kind of hoped the journal would have said something about what she was doing in there." "Maybe she left? I mean, there must have been a reason she never saw you, Maybe she grew you know, insane by being shut in a office for that long." "Yeah, but this was Caagara Telonia (kind of a telonian great depression but in the late 20th century, and early 21st century.) there were hardly any windows in that little block house*^see bottom for definition^." "Oh yeah, block houses...forgot about those." How could he forget about them unless– "Why don't you tell me how you came here?" His dark blue eyes widen, "what? you haven't even finished yours yet." "I have..." "I want to hear more" He wants to hear more? "Hey! you asked to hear how I became homeless. Nothing happened after that. I left the house, and became homeless. If you had asked what happened while  I was homeless, I would have continued." I smile cheekily. He laughs. It might be the middle of the night now, maybe even past. I don't care though, I am kind of having fun. With another human. Having little to no interactions, this is a really heart warming situation to be in. Like we're normal people. Normal villages folk. We can talk, laugh, and be together without having some sort of hierarchy between us. We're both poor, dirty, alone, and want to be loved. These are 3 things, I have never had in common with somebody before.

*block house= During Telonia's depression period, 70% of the population, lived in blocked houses which were small houses attached. They were dirty, smelly, and cheap to build. They were these square buildings, that had white dirty walls, and barb wire all around them. In these times, only the rich could afford a regular chalet, or house.

{Hello friends! 

I decided that I will updating the chapters the night before the day. (at least for me). It's been very hard for me not to publish the chapters right after finishing them. I usually finish these late at night, and I don't usually edit much of the story.–I've tried that before, on the first chapter. I ended up editing more than half of it out... So I decided I wouldn't mess with the story, after I've already written the timeline of these two characters. 

As always, see you Tuesday (or now, monday night.)

Arrivederci! ʕ￫ᴥ￩ʔ