Quote:
Originally Posted by emiluvsjmusic
Its a good start.. but I'd need to read more to know what its like
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Thanks!
Here is chapter two:
(it is not entirely done.)
Night had fallen, and with it came the sounds of the city night goers.
The rain had finally stopped, though black storm clouds still lingered, threatening more rain. I wandered the streets, looking for a place to sleep. But every alleyway I found was inhabited by homeless people. I sighed and resigned myself to sleeping in an abandoned dumpster. I was just about to lift the lid when it swung open and a girl jumped out. She looked like she was around my age, fifteen or sixteen at least; she had short dirty-blond hair and bright blue eyes.
I might have thought she was a boy if I hadn't seen her face.
She looked at me, her bright eyes searching my face, and then she spoke. "You're new aren't you?" her voice was street hard and sarcastic. With an accent that suggested she was Irish.
"How do you know?" my voice cracked from lack of talking. In the almost sixteen years of living at the orphanage, I had never spoken to anyone, nobody wanted to talk to the freak.
"You were goin' to sleep in the dumpster, everyone who has lived in the streets knows you cant"
"why?"
She rolled her eyes "the people take the trash out really early around here, they'll find you and next thing you know you'll be sittin' in the cop shop, explainin' yourself to the boys in blue."
I crossed my arms "well where am I supposed to sleep?" I was getting irritated by her know-it-all tone.
She mocked difficult thinking, "hmmm don't know, don't care. How's that? Now why don't you go home to mommy and daddy?"
"Okay then, if you will be of no help." I began to walk swiftly down the street. I knew she was watching me so I walked faster.
I heard a sigh from behind me then; "hey, Goth-boy! I can show you a place to sleep."
I smiled, turned and walked back to her."Thank you."
She glared at me, "just keep up. I don't want to deal with you if you get lost" with that she set off at a brisk pace.
I followed her down a maze of long alleyways and dingy streets until we reached a well light busy avenue, here I stopped looking at all the lights and people.
The girl stopped and put her hands on her hips. "Yes this is called avenue A."
"Its amazing." I whispered, fearing that if I spoke aloud it would dissolve like a dream. The girl raised her eyebrows at me "you mean you've never been to the city?" she walked to my side, I noticed she was about a head shorter than me.
"Yes, I lived in the country my whole life, at least I think."
"Are you a runaway?"
"In a sense, yes. And if you're thinking I'm some little rich kid who ran away from his parents you're wrong."
"Well you certainly don't look rich" she eyed my raged trench coat and patched clothes "where did you run away from then?"
"An orphanage,"
"Okay, well are you hungry?" she had noticed that my ribs were clearly visible. I quickly wrapped my coat around me. "I know a good Indian food place thats cheep. c'mon, theres some pretty lights there too." With that she grabbed my arm and led me down the street.
* * *
Ten minuets later we were standing outside a dingy little place where about five taxis were lined up.
"Ill go inside and get us some food, wait here." The girl said and disappeared through the door.
I sighed and sat down on the worn gray steps next to the "restaurant".
I looked around, it wasn't as well light here but it was still beautiful.
"Oui, Goth-boy, here." The girl had returned and was now holding two paper plates of the weirdest food I had ever seen. She placed one of the plates in my hand and sat down on the steps next to me.
"So whats your name?" she asked. "I cant keep calling you Goth-boy."
"...Gaaron, and you?"
"Helena."
We were silent for a moment, eating our food. I was amazed that food could have a taste.
"So were do you live?" I asked Helena.
"You'll see, I'm taking you there remember?"
"Right."
When we had finished our food, Helena stood up and took my arm again.
"Ill show you now." She led me down more passages and alleys, all the while telling me about New York, the people, the taxis, the subways, the buildings, everything. I listened intently, I loved the city already. Every few minuets I asked a question, which Helena answered happily.
(Note: Sorry for all the shortened words.)