CHAPTER 7

            I left the hospital lobby after a couple of hours, after I'd been questioned by staff one too many times for my liking. It was late afternoon, and my stomach hurt from not having any food. I found myself out of rice cakes and the last candy bar I received. I ended up walking down the block from the hospital to some locally owned small cafe and getting a nice veggie sandwich. I hadn't had real food for a while, especially since I never ate anything my parents made.

            As I'm sitting right next to the large window eating my sandwich, I watch the people as they walk by, people from every walk of life. So many people, so many lives. It seemed almost to me that sometimes life was just a dream or a nightmare, and no one else was real, just part of my dream. No one else really seemed real to me. Or was it that everyone else was real, but I wasn't?

            I sat in the cafe for at least an hour just watching people as they walked by, wondering what type of life they had, how much happier they were than I was. So many people out there, were any of them like me? I sipped my soda and watched, people, traffic, dogs, two street fights, and one robbery of a small clothing shop down the street. This place was so much more than I'd ever had to deal with, more problems than I was used to, and I wasn't the problem for once.

            I ended up getting asked to leave after a while, I guess I had sat there too long and worn out my welcome. Or maybe it was because it was a nice cafe and I was dressed the part of the homeless teenager. As I stepped back out onto the streets, I realized how much colder it had gotten. I wondered just how I was going to make it through the night, and where for that matter. I didn't know this city at all, I didn't know the safe places to sleep. I almost felt as if I had made a mistake by leaving. Sure I'd be tortured at home, but what if I'm raped and killed? Sure I hate life, but I don't want to die just yet. I need to try and figure things out first before I decide.

             I walked down the block a bit and walked into a book store to look around and warm up again. I saw so many intriguing books, I read the back cover of each one before I decided. I got myself a poetry book. It was a book filled with poetry from various authors, every poem being just as beautiful as the last. I figured it would get me through many cold days, keeping me company when I was alone, and being my source of inspiration.

            I decided that with the money I had on me, I could afford to stay in a hotel for one night until I found my place. I walked for miles just to get to it, a small inn down by the beach. I decided to stay there since it was close to the beach, where I was looking, and the owner didn't seem to care much who stayed there and for what reason, just as long as they paid their bill. It was really cheap to stay there, only about twelve dollars a night. I avoided talking to people as much as possible, and I just took my key and headed over to my room.

            When I opened up the door, I discovered why it was only twelve dollars a night. As soon as you walk in, you're in a small room with one bed and one nightstand, with some cheap excuse for a lamp, and one of those five-dollar alarm clocks. No phone, no television, not even a chair. The bathroom was tiny, with a shower/tub combo thing right next to the toilet and the sink. Sure it wasn't a luxury suite, but it would have to do. All I cared about is that it was warm, had hot water so that I could clean myself up, and a bed for me to sleep on. Not much else to do but entertain myself for the rest of the night. I had paid for two nights here, so I could spend all day looking for somewhere to sleep without worrying about not finding anything.

            I dropped my backpacks on the floor next to my bed and sat down. The bed was firm, but not hard, I could easily sleep on it without a problem. I took off my clothes, piling them on the floor next to my backpacks, keeping my sweatshirts separate. I'd just switch them out so that I had a clean sweatshirt every day, with every other one underneath. It seemed to work okay when my two parents refused to do laundry, and wouldn't let me do my own.

             I turned on the tub and filled it with water as hot as I could stand. I was so cold, I didn't care how warm it was, just as long as it wasn't too cool. While it was filling up, I made sure the blinds were pulled shut, and all three locks on my door were set. There were iron bars over the window as well. Not a good thing during a fire, but enough to keep me feeling safe. I set out some clothes on the end of my bed, making sure that I was dressing warmly enough. I grabbed my book and headed to the bathroom.

             I climbed in and grabbed a hold of my book. I left the door to the bathroom open, just in case I needed to hear something. As I read page after page, the pages began to get soggy and wrinkle a little, but I didn't really care. The one thing I remembered most about my mom was that when I was four years old, she'd leave the bathroom door open like I did that night. I'd usually sit quietly as she sat in the tub reading a book until her water got cold. I could always tell what books she read because the pages were always stiff and wrinkled on the bottom. I always wanted to read those books, just so I could read what she read, but I never got the chance.

            I waited until my water got too cool for me, a good half hour of just enjoying myself and warming up. I had read several pages of the book, enjoyed every single poem, filling my mind and heart with poems so beautiful they were almost the kind you'd see on fancy greeting cards. I couldn't chose my favorite. Each time I thought I had found my favorite, my life-changing poem, I'd read another that would be just as worthy to chose my destiny as the last.

            When I got out I could see that the sun had gone down for the night, and I decided I had better do the same. I got dressed in an old pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt to sleep in. The room itself was surprisingly warm, so I didn't need more than one layer over me. I almost set my alarm clock for early morning, but decided I'd rather sleep in a little and get my rest, than get up early just to leave. With the warm blankets over me, it didn't take long for me to drift into a deep sleep.

             I awoke around ten-thirty the next morning, still drowsy, but ready for another day. I had slept in longer than I had planned, but I forced myself not to think about it. I got myself out of my sleep clothes and into the warm clothes I had set out the night before, layering the sweatshirts as I planned. I made sure that everything was back into my backpacks and that I didn't leave anything behind. I knew I'd be back later that evening, but I didn't want to risk losing all that I had.

            I grabbed my backpacks as I went out the door, being sure to lock it. I found a small coffee shop just one block down from the inn and got myself some hot coffee and a little breakfast to wake me up. A nice four-shot mocha and a simple plain doughnut were all I had to hold me over until later, so they would have to do. I was amused to find that I could get exactly what I wanted without much talking at all, just some simple one word responses. Who needed to talk anyway, I didn't.

             I had one backpack over my shoulders, and the lighter one that was my moms was just hung off of my elbow. I held my coffee with both hands, holding in close enough to my chest that I could feel the warmth coming from it, close enough that I could breathe in the hot steam rising from the small hole in the lid. I was depending on that coffee to keep me warm.

             I found the beach and walked just where she had pointed out. Down the sidewalk until I reached a stoplight at Beachfront Avenue and Yahma Street, and then it was up one block onto St. Vincent Street. I looked down each way as I hit St. Vincent Street, it was the saddest thing I'd seen. The whole city was full of traffic at all hours, but there was maybe two cars in sight in either direction, only one of them was parked. The houses were old and dirty looking, with dead, weed dominated lawns as far as the eye could see. Kira told me they were once planning on tearing this whole block down and starting over, but decided to leave it standing since the city didn't have enough homeless shelters to house everyone, so this block was needed until they could figure something out.

            I saw several children, playing on one lawn. I felt my heart sink as I saw that they were in old and ripped dirty clothes, most of them barefoot. I saw many people sitting out on broken steps with little clothes and cloth wrapped around their feet, tied at the ankles. The few lucky ones had real shoes and clothing that fit them, but despite the severity of their poverty, everyone seemed to get along well.

            I watched carefully and cautiously as older women in her late sixties walked up to me, coughing and carrying a two year old boy in her arms, "Why hello honey."

            I felt bad for everyone, especially someone like her. She looked so old and fragile, and she was dressed in rags, "Hey."

             She put down the two year old who ran back to the house, and just looked at me, "You're a runaway, aren't you?"

            Wow, how'd she know? I was at a loss of words, "Um . . . how'd you know?"

            She smiled at me, "Because your clothes are in better shape than anyone in the neighborhood and you look well fed."

             I stared at her feet, avoiding eye contact, "So . . . does that mean I can't stay here?"

            She put her hand around my back and squeezed me tightly, I couldn't do more than cry out in pain. She lifted my shirt slightly to see the bruising, and I wasn't fast enough to stop her. She had a concerned look now, "I was going to ask what made you want to run away, but I think this answers my question."

            Two other girls who looked to be in their late teens came up to us, "Hey, Bella. Who is this?"

            Bella looked at the girls and then at me. I reached my hand out, "Oh, I'm Taya."

            The girls both looked at me, one of them reached out and shook my hand, "Well Taya, it's nice to meet you. This is Katie, and my name's Maria. You looking for shelter?"

            I shrugged my shoulders again, "Starting tomorrow night, yeah."

            The girls nodded at each other, and then looked back at me. Katie walked right up to me and looked me over, "Okay, I think we've got room for one more, especially like you. You look good."

             I wasn't too sure what that meant, but I wasn't going to turn that down, "Well, thanks."

            Bella frowned at them and then looked at me shaking her head, "Yeah, it's good money, but be careful honey."

            The two girls laughed at each other, Katie turned to me again, "Okay, so, tomorrow morning you come back here and we'll show you around and get you started, alright?"

            I smiled wide as I nodded my head, this wasn't so bad, "Sure."

            With that Bella turned and walked back to her house, and the two girls wandered the other direction back to their house. I headed back to the inn for my last nights stay. I'd be sure to get myself as clean as I could, since I wasn't sure what was going to happen. I picked up some takeout since it was only around one in the afternoon, and went back to my room, the whole time just trying to think of they meant when they said 'especially like you'. Oh well, tomorrow would be a new day.