Alone @ Christmas

Chapter 1

December 1

Wilmington, Delaware - 

Harriet spent most of her days travelling without a destination. She wasn't sure how she moved around so freely, without anyone caring, without anyone finding her, but she did. It was like she was invisible. She knew she wasn't invisible by the infrequent kicks in the head she received from strangers on an evening when she was sleeping rough. Streams of chestnut hair, enclosed in a rusty red beanie - the recipient of the abuse of intoxicated strangers, night after night. If her head wasn't aching from the constant kicking, her body was frozen through from the cold urban nights. 

Today she found herself walking through Wilmington just as the Christmas decorations began to adorn the parks and shops which she passed at pace. She was desperate to find a safe, secluded place to sleep before nightfall. It was getting dark again and Harriet's stomach churned, from the fear of another night on the streets and from the severe hunger she felt on a daily basis. Today, a woman with a kind face framed with a ginger bob and a large hooded coat threw her a half-eaten panini in a Pret wrapper. The bread was dry, and the filling was scant with an overriding taste of garlic mayonnaise - yuck. Harriet was cold, starving and in pain but at least she could be sure to keep the vampires at bay with a garlic breath like hers. 

When she had Bobbie, she could be sure the strangers would give sympathy to her feline friend and maybe bring them a tin of tuna or some mackerel which they could eat. One day, a strange middle-aged man brought her a corn dog from a street vendor and simply said 'for the cat'. Bobbie did not like corn dogs, she found out that day. But Bobbie was nowhere to be seen. Harriet wasn't concerned, the big white cat did this all the time, only to return one morning a few days later as if nothing had happened. But she still missed her, her only friend.

'DANCEFORMEDANCEFORMEDANCEFORME-YE-YE-YE' 

A line from a song unknown to Harriet blasted out from the pocket her grey puffer jacket before quickly ringing off. Harriet retrieved the noisy culprit from her pocket. It was an iPhone, one that she had found on a park bench in Newport a few weeks ago. She did find it, she didn't steal it or pickpocket - Harriet wasn't that kind of girl. At seventeen she wasn't sure how she found herself in this position, taking things from public places and relying on the kindness of strangers for the day's food. 

She wished she was prettier than she was, maybe then the judging eyes of passer-by's would throw her a few dollars rather than a disgusting half-eaten sandwich. Her face was deep set, with dark brown eyes. She had plenty of prominent freckles and beauty marks on her pale, malnourished face. In all truth, she was not a bad looking girl, just tired and battered after years on the streets. Harriet would never dream of judging somebody by their appearance, but she knew too well from her own experiences that the rest of the world did this for sport. 

'DANCEFORMEDANCEFORMEDANCEFORME-YE-YE-YE' 

The song blasted out again - accompanied by the name 'Craig' on the screen. 

Harriet longed to answer it but she just couldn't pluck up the courage. The song ended and she returned the phone to her pocket. She even knew the passcode - 123456. Clearly the phone was previously either owned by an idiot, an elderly person with a bad memory, or someone with complete disregard to their own personal security. Even Harriet thought this was dumb, and she had never afford a phone of her own until now. She couldn't afford this one either, but she decided that it was hers since she was smart enough to find it - finders, keepers. That didn't mean she was brave enough to use it, and even so, how was she ever going to afford any credit. Even even so, who would she even call? There was a reason Harriet found herself in this position: nobody cared about her, nobody knew where she was, and nobody was looking for her. She was sure that nobody would pick up the phone even if she did have somebody to call.

As she walked, an outbuilding came into view on the outskirts of the park. A small building that had probably previously held some public toilets or park ranger's junk but was now empty and unoccupied. It was shaded by a large oak tree. Harriet had stayed here a couple of nights previously and received no attention, a welcome change from sleeping in the shop doorways which were frequented by the feet and bodily fluids of strangers. A kick in the head here, a urination on the face there. 

Taking the small bag off her back, she lay down a large sleeping bag and a fluffy pink jumper that she had.. found.. a couple of weeks ago in Washington. Last time she slept here, she had Bobbie to cozy up to, her thick white fur getting stuck in her face, but tonight she was alone. 

Harriet couldn't help but think of the Christmas decorations she passed earlier. Soon, families and friends would be visiting those stores and picking out presents like they had all the money in the world. Harriet didn't care about the money, but she longed that one day she would have someone to buy a gift for, or to have someone who was kind enough to think of her. 

Midnight passed according to the iPhone, as did one o'clock and two. At last, Harriet's head fell onto the baby pink sweater, lay on the floor of the concrete outbuilding. Sleep, at last. 

A fluffy white feline with shiny blue eyes crept in some hours later. 

___________________________________________________________

😊 Thank you so much for taking the time to read this, it means a lot! Apologies for any spelling or grammar mistakes, I hope you enjoyed and will continue reading...