My Name is Michael Clifford

Title your Story Part

After hours and hours of lying in bed, I came to the conclusion that even if it is Saturday and I don't have anything to do, I should get up. What should I do on this fine evening?

A casual stroll in the park sounds wonderful on this sunny spring day. A good time to get some fresh air.

I put on a ripped white shirt and some jeans on- stuff handed down from people I didn't even know. We don't lave the budget for fancy Hollister clothes but I can't bring myself to care.

I grabbed the essentials- my phone, for in case I get kidnaped or something; my headphones, listen to some music on my stroll; and my keys so I can lock the door.

I make my way downstairs, not even bothering to check if there is anything for breakfast because I know their wasn't any. I ate the last of the cereal last night and my mom doesn't get her pay check until Monday. I'm sure she will try her hardest to find a way to feed me. It's not her responsibility anyways, I should have a job. She just doesn't allow me to. She wants me to focus on my grades. Their doomed wether I have a distraction or not.

I locked the front door and plugged my earphones into my phone and listened to some music. I watched around myself the whole way to the park, suspicious of everyone in the ghetto neighborhood.

I got to the old rundown playground in the time it would take you to sing Twinkle Twinkle Little Star.

I sat alone on the swing set, looking around the playground, waiting for someone to arrive but it was a ghost town, I couldn't see anyone down any of the streets or in the playground.

Memories overwhelmed my mind, bombarding it with words and hurried voices. ' It's okay Michael. I love you.', 'Calm down Michael it's just a secret.','You wouldn't tell, right?',' Our secret.'.

I whimpered and warded off the thoughts. I lightly banged my head on the bar of the swing set. I tried to stop them, all the memories, the ones that brought me pain. But all I could do is silently cry.

You know that cry when no one is around to hear you but you still keep it quiet just to convince yourself that there is someone. The one that bubbles up in your throat, burns your throat until you let out the most heart wrenching sob, finally realizing that there is no one there to hear you.