Reaching for Nothing

I was cold. So very very cold. My thin blanket didn't offer much protection from the elements, and it was nearly winter. Winters were bitter cold up north here. 

To be honest, I was lucky to have a blanket in the first place. Many others on the street didn't even have that, so they had to try to make the best with cardboard or corrugated tin to protect them from the wind.  

I could smell the tell-tale scent of pot, so someone must be lighting up nearby. They'll probably get mugged for it. Just as long as it doesn't come over here. The last thing I need is to get caught up in a drug fight. 

I felt the cold caress of a winter breeze, and huddled my legs closer to my chest to keep any shred of heat I could get. Caress was probably the wrong word. It was more like an icy slap to my chapped lips and face. 

I silently let a tear run down my cheek, and it burned where it ran over my skin. Crying was a mistake; it was a sign of weakness, and even if nobody saw, it did nothing to help you.  

I had leaned fast not to show weakness. The people here are vicious, and they'll take anything you have if you give them half a chance. 

I dried my cheek, then rolled over onto my side and wrapped the blanket more firmly around myself. Sleep was a temporary relief from the cold and the hunger. It wasn't a long term solution, but it helped. As I drifted off, I fought to choke back the sobs in the back of my throat.

~~~~~ 

I opened my eyes and I was laying in my bed, with the smell of turkey wafting through the house. It must be Thanksgiving. I smiled as I hopped out of bed and walked down the stairs, already fully dressed. 

Every year my mom made a huge feast for Thanksgiving. Turkey, mashed potatoes, green bean casserole, creamed corn, homemade stuffing, and cole slaw. All of my extended family came and stayed in our big two-story house. It was my favorite time of the year. My cousins and I were close, because we were all about the same age. 

As I walked into the living room, I was confused when I saw a Christmas tree in the corner, and brightly wrapped gifts spilling out from under it. It was then that I realized this was a dream, and my good mood was bruised slightly. None of it was real. Oh well, it was a good dream, and I was determined to make the best of it.  

My mom walked in wearing an apron with her beautiful blonde hair tied up in a ponytail. She was grinning as she hugged me tightly and told me she loved me. My aunts and uncles and cousins and nephews came in the front door and wrapped me in a giant group hug. My father and brother came downstairs. My father smiled and ruffled my hair, and my brother punched my shoulder affectionately. I was grinning hugely, and I spun around and thanked everyone for being there. 

My mom called over the hubbub that it was time to open gifts, and everyone swarmed to the tree. By the time I got there, there was only one package left, so I picked it up. I checked to tag, but it was smudged, and the name was unreadable. I said as much, and my mom walked over and snatched it out of my hands.  

"Faggots don't get gifts." I looked at my mom, shocked. My happy, loving mother was gone and in her place was a woman I hoped never to see again. Her usually shiny, smooth hair was frizzed all over and tangled, as if she had been nervously twisting it. Her eyes were dull, and her breath reeked of alcohol. 

"Mom..." 

"I am not your mother. No son of mine would disrespect me by being such a freak of nature. Now get out! You are an abomination!" 

"But mom..." I was crying in earnest now, with tears freely flowing down my cheeks. 

"I said I don't want fucking faggots under my roof! Now get out of here, you sicken me!" My brother, who once protected me from bullies, now walked over and punched me in the face, hard. I saw stars, and he shoved me out of the door and locked it. As I lay there on the lawn, a giant chasm opened up beneath me, swallowing me into its depths, screaming all the way. As I fell, the faces of my cousins jeered at me and called horrible insults out at me.

~~~~~

I woke with a start, my heart racing. My blanket was twisted around my legs, so I kicked it off. It was almost dawn, and the last birds that hadn't migrated south yet were twittering cheerfully. 

I sighed and sat up, rubbing my temples to forget the nightmare. Every night, the same thing. Different each time, but it always ends up with my family kicking me out and me falling.  

My stomach growled and I sighed again. I forgot. I didn't eat yesterday. Has it really only been a week that I've been living here on the street? It feels like an eternity...  

Once again, my stomach growled its annoyance at me and I stood up, rubbing my aching back. Why did I have to take a bus into the city? Did I think it would be easier here than in the suburb where my... No, where what I once called my family lives? Boy was I wrong...  

I clutched my stomach as a sharp pain thrust through it. I need food... I shuffled out of the little alley that was my new home.  

Since I had my head down, I didn't see the man rushing towards me until he pushed me back into the alley and I fell on a broken bottle. He probably had to be at work soon. I hope he gets a raise for being there on time.  

I glared and was angry for a bit, but not long. Life here drains you of things like anger. It takes too much energy to be well and truly pissed. I check to see how bad the bottle cut me. Nothing too bad, only a few scratches. I got myself up again and brushed myself off before heading back out, more cautious this time.  

There was no one on the street, it was still early. I shuffled along the sidewalk. There was a McDonald's nearby with a dumpster I can raid. Of course, I wasn't paying attention once again, and I bumped into someone from behind.  

I immediately started apologizing profusely. I was already cut, I didn't need to be knocked down again.  

"It's ok, don't worry about it. It was an accident, right?" 

This stranger's voice... What was it that sounded so... Familiar? 

" Wait a minute. Don't I know you?" 

I looked up into the eyes of the person I bumped into and felt an instant thrill of fear. 

"Aren't you..." 

Why did it have to be him?!  

"Your name is Eric, right?" 

I turned and ran away as fast as I could, away from this devil from my past, come to hurt me yet again.

~~~~~~~~~~~ 

Hey guys, gals, and everyone else that may or may not be reading this. As you can tell, this is not going to be a happy story. It's making me all depressed, writing it, but I feel like it's a story that needs to be told. For a few months now, it has been nagging at me, and now I'm finally getting it written down. It probably won't be overly long, so please just bear with me if you want to read it. I love all of you!