He bleakly watched the skies turn gray and darken; ominous clouds loomed over head. The rain would come soon, he’d have to find someplace dry... warm. He sat on the tallest mausoleum of the graveyard; the cold stone harsh and unforgiving this evening, he shivered.
Bringing his arms up to wrap loosely about himself, he rubbed at his prickling arms, wishing for a warm place to stay and a good meal. His stomach pains for food, but he has to ignore it; there will be no food for a long time yet.
He must wait here for him. He would wait for eternity if he had too.
Why? He had no clue to that question.
Maybe it was the loss of his only family that made him do this. His father left him no money no home and absolutely nothing in his name, he, instead gave it to his step-mother. She of course kicked him out of the house a few weeks ago.
He was 15 years old and decided that it was time to leave school and look for a new home.
His step-mother made up a lie saying he’d left the country with a relative, so be it. Besides, who’s going to adopt a 15 year old? Everyone wants a baby, or a cute toddler or preschooler, not a teenaged boy. It would be useless going to an orphanage and begging for food.
He wouldn’t beg on the streets; people can be cruel to the downtrodden. He might be drugged up and found lying in the woods somewhere. You never know what a sicko might do to a kid if given the opportunity and chance; his father told him that one all the time as he was growing up, probably to keep him from sneaking out. It worked.
After all you see the stories in the News all the time, who would want to ever leave safe warm Home after that? No one, that’s who.
He really didn’t either. He missed his father and longed to run back home beg to be taken back in, and go and lie on his warm secure bed. It wouldn’t work; why would it work a second time when not the first...?
“Please! I’m sorry... I... I’ll do anything! Mom!” he’d been sobbing, could hardly believe what he was hearing. No more home, no more safety, no more Dad.
He’d been slapped for calling her mom.
She was going to kick him out, she didn’t want him now the funeral was over and the Will had been read, she never had. And he didn’t have a choice; no other would take him in. It didn’t matter, all he wanted was a home; he’d always hated her anyway.
But now he was lucky. A man named Eric was going to take him in as long as he worked for his stay and quit school. He had met him while lying on his father’s grave, after his mother kicked him out. He knew the other must have felt pity for the crying kid on his dad’s grave, clinging to hopeless memories of a time that would never again return.
· Mon Dec 03, 2007 @ 08:20pm · 0 Comments