March 12
On a Monday morning, the sun glared furiously through the broken blinds which made spots in my eyes. It was going to be a pleasant day but for a person, such as myself, don't get that chance. To top off the morning, thanks to the noisy "neighbors," I was awake all night; the most sleep I got was about two hours. Technically they are not my neighbors since this building is ill-suited to be lived in. It was once an orphanage when I was younger, but no longer.
A quick note, I'm homeless. Now, it may not seem like it, honestly, I am. I just claimed this old, abandoned, eye sore of a building my current hiding spot. More than half was lost due to the fire. That was more than two and a half years ago. During the time, I had been 21 years old, the city had no choice to but to build a new orphanage closer to the boarder line. I still clearly remember the good years I had in here; they were great and all but then you outgrow the system.
To make matters even worse, there's no sign of me ever existing in any known records around the world. As it so happens, I've become the city's famous 'ghost'; the boy without a name, as others call me. Everything about me is a complete mystery and it haunts me not knowing who you really are. I'd rather claim to have amnesia than no records at all.
I slowly sat up and stretched out my arms high to the sky, waking slowly up. I tried to stand, but gained an unbearable cramp in my left leg, falling back to the broken bed. "Ah...damn it all!" I cursed. I applied pressure on my calf and rubbed it in circles. The pain subsided, but my leg was still tight. "Man, that hurt." I told myself as I got back up on my feet.
With how old the building is and the rotting wood, I had to walk extra carefully; one wrong step could cause me to fall into the basement. The basement no longer had a staircase to return up. There was a few spots I marked with tape showing those were the safe spots.
Reaching the front door, that is no longer a door, I emerged from the building, looking around for cops, one to be exact. His name is Officer Daniel McCain, or for giggles, just Dan.
I avoid Officer McCain due to the fact I had been a thief for the past six years. Besides the ghost title, I'm also the holder of famous thief, though only stole things I needed, like medicine or food and water. I walked down the narrow alleyway towards Dundee Rd, where a certain store stood.
All thievery I've done was at Woody Jack's general store, located in front of the alleyway I stood in. However, for less than a month now, Woody, himself, gives me a few things I need to last for at least a week.
Woody, who was sweeping the front outside, looked up to smile towards me. He motioned me to follow him, as I quickly rush across the street, following him into the back of the store. He hands me a plastic bag with supplies and pats me on the back.
Just as I was about rush back to the alley, a large firm hand gripped my shoulder. "Hold it right there, boy," The deep-toned voice told. "I thought I made myself perfectly clear I never want to see your face here ever again."
My body turned ice cold, feet cemented to the ground and my thought froze in time. I was going to speak but had to bite my lip just to ignore the shock waves of pain, even my toes were beginning to curl.
"Dan, let Nolen go. I gave him that bag,"
"He's always here and you constantly give the same excuse," Dan spoke, as he tightened his grip on my shoulder, feeling like a thousand needles digging into the skin. "Why don't you just admit he's stealing your supplies, Woody?"
"Dad! Let him go. You're hurting him." Spoke a new voice, pleasant as it was, it was rare.
Officer McCain snorted as his monstrous grip released from my left shoulder, more injured now than it was before. I lifted my hand up to my lip, cleaning the blood that dripped to my chin. I must have bit too hard as I tried to ignore the pain in my shoulder. I turned to face Officer McCain. "If you are an officer of the law, look for evidence that I have stole any items."
Officer McCain looked at me then at his daughter, who motioned him to follow Woody into the store. Defeated, he walked in after Woody to watch the surveillance tape. He was staring daggers at me before disappearing in the doorway.
I stood in place, my feet numb from fear, too afraid to moving and give Officer McCain a reason to believe I lied.
"Hey, are you okay?"
My train of thought crashed as I looked at her. She looked shockingly familiar, but this horrible memory of mine about people, her name couldn't come to mind. "Huh? Oh, yea. I'm fine," I lied. I didn't want to be involved with her more then necessary; that would only pile on the ever-growing list of things Officer McCain could hate me for.
She jerked open the door and slammed it shut as she approached me. "You're lying!" She told, "Let me see,"
"I said, I'm fine," I repeated, trying to back away from her.
The girl didn't stop, as she grabbed my arm to pull me closer to her. "Stop fighting me."
"I told you, I'm fine." I kept fighting her, trying to break free.
As persistent as she was, she got a quick idea and tripped me, purposely. "Oops, sorry." She lied, hiding that devious smile.
I huffed, defeated. "Fine, you win." I sat up and stayed still.
"Could you remove your shirt for a minute?"
I turned my head, unsure if I should be shock, disturbed or I don't know what else I should feel. But I didn't co-operated with her request, only since I have old scars I refuse to show anyone.
The girl frowned when I hadn't remove my shirt but it didn't stop her from looking at my shoulder. She pulled her light blonde hair back to a pony tail, so it wouldn't fly on her face. Her hands felt all around the shoulder, short yet sharp pain pinned my nerves each time pressure was applied. "Does this hurt?"
I remained still, only wanting this to be over, so I can be on my way.
She placed a harder pressure which caused me to yelp. "I thought so."
I took a deep breath. Don't ever lie to an officer's daughter. I thought, having a mental note for later.
She tried to move my arm up, but I pulled it back close to myself. "What's wrong? Does it hurt that much?"
I was silent. I knew it was a bad idea to let anyone to examine my arm. Despite the fact I know it's bad since the pain never seems to cease and it will only get worse. What can I do about it? Can't go to a doctor or even get it checked out. I've dealt with this for years now and I'm doing fine so far. I managed to get on my feet just as Officer McCain came back out.
"Anna, in the car."
Anna glanced back at me, as I began to walk off. "Wait!" She grabbed the worst arm. "Let me help you."
The moment I glanced at her, she retreated her hand to my other arm. She saw my pain in my eyes, which doesn't seem to happen often. She lightly pulled me to the car. "I need to see mom." Anna told her father.
"But..." Her father began, dismissing the fact she was going to help me perfectly knowing he was displeased.
"No buts. Now!" Justine raising her voice at him. Scolded by his own daughter was truly a sight to behold.
"I will not have you raise your voice at me, young lady!" He spoke in a firm voice. "I will not allow this criminal in my car!"
Justine narrowed her eyes at him. "No I won't. If you won't take me to see mom, then I'll just have to walk." She turned her back to him, tugging me along with her.
"Anna!" Dan shouted at her as we were a few feet from him and the distance grew longer and longer.
"Hey, hold on..." I protested. All I wanted to do today was go back to my hideout. Now it seems I'm being dragged by this girl, an officer's daughter nonetheless.
"I'm sorry my dad's like that. He has never acted that way before," She spoke. "He always says 'I only want you to be happy and when you're happy, I'm happy too.' But lately, he hasn't made me happy at all." She went on and on about her and her father's relationship. Which I honestly didn't want to know. "Are you even listening?" She came to a sudden stop as I almost make us crash.
"What?" I looked at her as her sky colored eyes narrowed again. "I honestly have no idea what that's like." I said sheepishly.
Anna stared at me, like really staring at me trying to reach my very soul. "You have a rare color in your eyes. There almost silver and your hair, it's ravenous color is dull and lacks shine but overall healthy," She said looking at her feet. "Tell me, are you really homeless?"
"Yea. How can I lie about that?"
Anna walked to the wall of a building, leaned on it, still glancing at the ground as if it was the most fascinating thing ever. "You look too well dress, feed well enough and you don't seem to be extremely covered in filth."
I sighed. "That's what most people tend to believe. Some people are smarter than most," I said, seeing the confused look. "Let me explain, I quote, 'A homeless person is an individual without permanent housing who may live on the streets; stay in a shelter, mission, single room occupancy facilities, abandoned building or vehicle; or in any other unstable or non-permanent situation.' But for me, I am unable have that. I have no social security number, no dental, no health, and no birth record. In other words, I can't ever gain a permanent home, just using abandoned buildings as a hideout."
Anna's eyes changed color slightly darker from tears swelling up. I panicked at the sighted, trying to grab a napkin from the bag I still had on. Finally grabbing one, I handed it to her.
Soft quick giggles escaped her voice as she patted her tears away. "I don't understand why my dad hates you so much but you sure are kind and thoughtful."
You and me both.