TRIGGER WARNING: DETAILS OF OF R//E. There will be ~~, so feel free to skip
Middle school was probably the biggest eye opener for me. I had my first boyfriend, which resulted in my first heartbreak. I was 2 months clean. My art was dead, I couldn't afford rent, so I was out on the streets. I still continued to make art with what little supplies I still had. If I was lucky, I sold maybe a sketch or two a week. I stayed anywhere I could: park benches, alleyways, I stayed underneath a dumpster once. I was still going to school. Thankfully Devin and most of his gang switched schools, but there were still two of his friends I had to deal with. But by this time, I was so used to it. I even started to find it funny because they just kept using the same insults. "Freak" "Loser" "Waste of space", they had no creative bone in their body. Other than the bullying, school was great. I was a straight A student, I was good friends with Amara, though I couldn't tell her I was homeless because I knew she would try to get me to move in with her, and I didn't want to be a burden again. If I wanted to do that, I would just go back home.
For the most part, I kept my head down, did what homework I had in class and at lunch. That gave me more time to work on art at wherever I called home that night. Occasionally I would find a few coins on the ground I would pick up. I once found a whole five dollar bill on the ground. I picked up and saved as much as I could. As for food, usually I would eat what restaurants threw out, but one day the owner saw me.
"Hey. What are you doing out here?" He yelled across the alley from me. I froze like a deer in the headlights."Oh. Uhm. I was just leaving. I'm so sorry. Please don't call the cops. I'm leaving now." I was terrified.
"No no no. It's okay. Come inside. I'll get you something fresh to eat."
I followed him inside, hand on my knife, ready for anything. We went inside, and he whipped me up a grilled cheese sandwich and some french fries. And let me tell you, it was the best dang thing I ever tasted. We chatted a little bit. Well, more like he chatted, I nodded my head and threw in the occasional "Yeah" here or there. He dropped out of highschool by 16. His grandfather, who raised him after his parents were arrested, gave him a job at the restaurant, which he then owned after his grandfather passed 4 years ago. He had a wife of 10 years, and two daughters, one around eight, one around four. His daughters must have looked more like their mom, as they both had light blonde hair with sparkling green eyes. While he had shoulder length dark brown hair, with dark brown eyes. A beautiful family though. Something I wish I had.
After I left, it was around 8:00, so it was dark. I needed to find a place to stay. I walked around for about an hour (I knew the streetlights came on at 9) until I came across an abandoned building. I walked around to make sure it was unoccupied, and then I walked in the door. It was dark, plastic covering the broken windows. There was a musty smell, almost like mold and maybe a hint of dead animals or something. I couldn't tell what it was. Then I heard rustling. Me, being the dumb person I was, went to investigate. Keep in mind, I was only in 8th grade so this isn't where I died. I walked around the corner and saw the last person I expected to see.
"Devin? What are you doing here?" I said with pure shock. I thought he had moved. I guess in a way he did.
"Oh hey look, it's the freak. Why do you care if I'm here? This was my house. You broke in. I could call the cops on you right now." He said with such spitefulness and hatred in his voice. I mean what did I really expect. Kindness and hospitality?
"Look. I don't know what I ever did to you. As far as I know I didn't do anything. Maybe you just have a horrible homelife. You must have to be living in a rundown shack like this. " Next thing I knew his fist flew and connected with my jaw.
After Devin punched me and I fell to the ground, I started laughing. I was so used to getting beaten up. This was just perfect. I brought back memories.
"Why are you laughing, pipsqueak?" Turns out he had all the brains in the group.
"Doesn't this bring back memories for you? Picking on a poor misfit who lost her parents and ran away from home." I started laughing so hard I couldn't hardly breathe. Devin stepped back away from me. I thought he was gonna hit me, but it was a whole lot worse.
Devin started laughing this time, walking back over to me while undoing his belt.
"Oh Ill show you memories. And I can guarantee you, sugar, you won't be able to forget this one."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~He pulled down his pants and underwear, and pinned me down to the ground by my wrists. His knees were on either side of my hips. He grabbed both my wrists in one hand and the other hand traveled up my shirt. Nothing was said between either of us, but I squirmed. But it seemed like the more I squirmed and tried to get away, the more he enjoyed it. When he got done fondling my breasts, he grabbed rope and tied my hands to the beam that was behind me. He then scooted down and grabbed at my pants. I would have kicked him or kneed him but he was on top of my legs. I was helpless. I was pinned. I couldn't do anything. He pulled my pants down to right above my knees, and lifted my legs up. I guess that was so he could get easier access to me. He positioned himself, and jammed into me. It felt like it was a knife, it hurt so badly. But all I could do was lay there while he violated me.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~After he was done and got re-dressed, I pulled back up my pants and scooted my back against a wall. Devin walked out with a big smile on his face. After I was sure he was gone, I got up, gathered my things, and got out of there as fast as I could. That moment, I knew I had to get out of there. Out of that city. Out of that state.
YOU ARE READING
Dead by 24: An Autobiography
Novela JuvenilThis is the story of Oren Winter. A normal girl with a tragic past. This the story of her life leading up to the day she died.