The Lost Journal #99

Another page from the journal of a teenage girl, homeless; her struggle to survive life on the streets. ~ I was totally freaked out when I saw Melody standing in my way. She would not let me just walk away without a fight!

 

She said, “you’ve got a lot of nerve coming back here, shouldn’t you be in jail?”  I just wanted to get away before Melody saw her sister.  I blurted out “I just came back for my stuff” that’s when I realized,  I should have kept my mouth shut!”   She looked at me and then she looked at what I had, the backpack and she knew something had happened in her apartment.

Before Melody could say another word,  the screams and cries of  Beth filled the hallway.  Beth was now standing in the hallway screaming and crying while struggling to speak all at the same time.  Melody was totally confused, she had no idea what she was about to witness.  She pushed me back into the hallway saying “what did you do to her?”  I was only thinking of one thing now, running, running,  as fast as my feet could take me.  When Beth came stumbling towards Melody, dripping blood on the carpet,  the gaping wound in her arm, open, oozing blood,  Melody freaked.  She began crying “oh my god! what happened? how did this happen?” Beth smeared blood all over Melody’s clothes as she clung to her crying uncontrollably now.  Beth was leaning against her sister barely able to stand up on her own, crying how sorry she was.

I had suddenly been forgotten about when Melody saw her sister covered in blood and  hysterical.  Melody stood there stunned as she took in the scene before her – Beth had smeared blood all over the hallway walls outside Melody’s apartment, and blood splattered over the carpet of the hallway.  It was Melody’s screams I heard last,  as I took off out the exit and through the parking lot into the night.  Melody,  screaming for someone to call 911.  I could hear her voice yelling it over and over again,  until I could no longer hear either of them anymore.

I embraced the cold, a bitter wind bit at my skin but I would not complain.  I was just glad I was able to get my stuff and get out of there before anything else happened.  I remember walking through lonely side streets, the warm glow of lights, coming from the homes lining the streets.  Every now and then I would notice someone moving within a lighted room , someone living their life, at home, watching t.v. or getting up to get a snack or a drink.  Someone like I once knew,  someone who would never think about those without.  Those who are living outside, in the cold, sleeping on a park bench or in a darkened doorway,  curled up,  shivering in the cold.  I try not to look inside the houses that I walk past.   I don’t want to be reminded of the comfort they live in or the warmth they all take for granted, just like I used too.

I make my way down Harbord Street, walking south until I come to a small parkette.  It must be very late now,  there is hardly any traffic and most of the houses and apartments are dark inside.  I sit on one of the wooden park benches and look up at a highrise a block away.  I count 14 stories, and 8 apartments per floor, most are in darkness now.  They sleep in their beds of  warm blankets and pillows, cozy, softness, they sleep a deep sleep I can not know of,  out here on the streets.   I watch another light go off, another apartment window darken to black.   I listen to the soft hum of the streetlights that glow above the sidewalk, lighting the night for those who walk there.

My hands are freezing cold I realize, as I rummage through  my backpack for my make-up case.  I panic for a moment believing it is gone! but then I feel it’s bulky shape and grab it before my frozen fingers fail me and loose it again within the depths of my overstuffed backpack.   I open it, knowing exactly where to look to find my stash of coke, my savior,  after all the hell I’ve gone through.  My fingers ache,  as I struggle to undo a hidden compartment and then I finely undo it, open it, reach for it,  it’s gone! it’s empty!

I begin to shake all over,  I am overcome with sorrow and anguish,  I begin to cry.   I lay down on the cold ground, exhausted, in pain,  realizing my misery will not end so quickly tonight.  My whole body shudders with each mournful wail I cry.  I try not to think about how I have gotten here, to this awful, bleak, lonely moment in time.

 

Copyright ©2009 The Lost Journal

Written by: Sandra Lynn

All pictures displayed herein; courtesy of Google Images