The Red Rose

It's All My Fault

I had lived with my mom for as long as I can remember, I always had to go off and do her errands. It seemed to be drugs were more important than taking care of your daughter. By the age of six, I knew the streets of New York better than my mother had. Or my father, wherever the fuck he is at this point. He decided to go and take a job, new life, far away from me and didn't even bother to take me with. Who would anyway? I'm a waste of space. It was at this time, six o'clock in the morning—which was way more earlier than I intended to wake up—I made my way to a public restroom. I locked the very sturdy but quite grimy door behind me, took off my jacket and looked around in my pockets.

Before my mother had woken up that morning that I left, I had taken one of her things. Yes, I stole her watch. Her nice, little, expensive ass watch. It was the only thing that was expensive in there, and it's my only chance to pay for a meal, well, besides the cash I had earned off the street. I had to find a shop that I could turn this in and receive change. I had used my change once or around four times to get myself a few things from a store. Clean water, anything that was a necessity and I payed for them. Placed them into my backpack once I was out of there and now here we are. I placed the watch back inside the jacket and I had to piss so of course I did that, too. I cleaned my hands after leaving the stall and cleaned myself up a bit. That way, I wouldn't be kicked out of the diner I want to go to. Next, I just needed some clothes, which means one thing.

I need to sell the watch that my mother's first husband had given her, or I steal from a laundromat. Stealing from a laundromat was not my first choice so selling is the goal. Problem is, the nearby consignment shop opens at ten. I had a long while to go until then.  My backpack that I mentioned earlier, as well? I stole it, and honestly, I wish I never stole anything in the first place.

I needed it though, it was just laying there on the ground. It was just waiting for someone to pick it up. I decided to just swoop on by, and take what I needed. After I successfully "borrowed" the bag, I went behind a building and checked what was in the bag.

There wasn't a whole lot, surprisingly. The bag itself was a bit old and worn down, it must've been used a lot. There was gum, a nice color of blue, which was the instant realization that it must've been some sort of peppermint. There was also a water bottle in the middle pocket, with some pencils, a pen and an eraser. There was also a black bag filled with other essentials. I waited a very long time, even took a nap in the stall (that wasn't the best solution), until it was finally time to go to a consignment shop. I cleaned myself up the best that I could, and went inside. After some exchanging conversations, they took the watch that my mother had received; and gave me cash for it. It was a heaping four hundred and twenty-four bucks. I'm not sure why we didn't sell it before, or why she didn't sell it for drugs or alcohol. I'm not sure what this feeling is called, but it was new. It was like I was on top of the world for once. I was able to clean myself up a bit, and buy some more comforting clothes. I picked out some black jeans that had rips in it, and a regular plain shirt, a flannel and a spare jacket in case I got cold. I found a cool beanie to match with it and now I look way more cooler than mingy old clothes I've had since I was fourteen.

I arrived to a diner in this small town I came across about twenty miles east, and I pushed open the door to a diner and immediately wanted to leave. I felt like a spy, a weirdo, I didn't belong here. I needed something to bite, though, so I quickly sat down in a booth and grabbed a menu that was laying on the side of the table. There was also clear, round salt and pepper shakers along with a bunch of coffee packets. I looked through each and every single food and drink that was listed, and the price, too. I made sure whatever I had gotten, I wouldn't need to pay so much just singlehandedly for a meal.