Winter seemed to last longer but she hardly noticed as she prayed to simply wake up the next morning. She'd finally made it to her destination but had no success once again; so she walked the length of the north side of the city back toward her hidden home. Finally she turns the corner between a picture perfect society and the outcasts it tries so hard to silence.
The immediate contrasts between worlds used to take her breath away now her blood boils in a silent rage. She sighs and burrows her arms farther into her tattered sweatshirt. Weathered boots, catch on a lone thin sheet of black ice, along the crumbling, cobblestone walk, and for a split second fear enclosed in on her; she involuntarily cries out at the same time an older gentleman can be seen stumbling along on the other side of the roadway. He hesitantly glances across the street at the flailing woman and then down at the cane in his left hand before beginning the tedious walk again. When the man nears what he hopes to be the safest place he begins to cross toward the other side.
As he gets closer he notices her tattered hoodie and dirty jeans. She shivers porously and kept glancing behind her before stumbling upon the clear ice. She might have once been a model but now everything seems to hang precariously from her dangerously bony frame. The man reaches out toward her and braces himself as she seizes his hand. Even with her petite bony frame the strength she has remains evident as she finally steps onto solid ground.
The young woman flashed a beautiful smile at him before releasing his hand and uttering something in a language he didn't quite understand anymore,
"At least there are some good ones left in the world."
He nods his head and licks his lips before attempting a coherent response,
"Everything will be alright."
His voice is shaky as he glances around the snow covered cobblestone attempting not to make eye contact. He remains unsure of what he has said as she wraps her slender arms around his shoulders and gives him a hug. He hasn't received kindness in what feels like centuries so the man simply stands like a statue until she lets go.
The young woman stands there with confusion etched into her seemingly delicate features before shrugging her shoulders and taking a few cautious steps around the man. She laughs quietly to herself at the hopefulness of finding someone else to talk with but just as quickly falls silent at the sound of dragging footsteps behind her. Without turning around she hurries toward the run down building and a false sense of security that the hidden parts of her little world grants.