Hopelessly Hopeful
chapter two
The sun shown in my eyes. I woke up. My coat throw over me. My guitar by my side. My backpack laced in my arm. I pull it in toward my chest. My coat in tighter. My guitar in closer. This is all I have left. All I have. I opened my bag and dug though my things. I found my old watch. My grandfather gave it to me. Before he died. The second hand ticked. It read 6:34. I got up and put my coat around and a hat I had in my backpack.
Winters here could be harsh. The cold nibbled at my nose and surrounded my body. I felt goose bumps arise on my skin. A chill escaped. I shivered. I picked up my things and made my way down the street. Even though it was early. Almost everyone was up. They awake with the sun. Going to work. Going to school. Happy. Some sad. Some angry. Some misunderstood. But they all have something or someone to live for. What do I have. Nothing I was alone. I had no one. I had friends. But they were nothing more than friends. No one to love me. No one to love. I loved my guitar. I remember my mom had gave me to me for my thirteenth birthday. I loved it. But what does it do for me. Helps me make a few bucks and calluses my fingers. It can’t love me back. It couldn’t comfort me or give me advice or just talk to when I’m in need of it most.
I made my way down the street. I found the closest open store. A small diner. I asked to use the restroom. The waitress said only paying customers. I told her I would buy something when I’m done. I had no money. She led me to the back where the bathroom was. I went inside and locked the door. I put my stuff down on the floor. It was clean. I was probably the first person to use it today after they cleaned it yesterday. I looked in the mirror. My face was dirty. My hair was oily. I had a bad taste in my mouth. I turned on the sink nozzle. Letting it run until it was hot enough for me to handle. I splashed the water on my face. I put my head under the faucet wetting my hair. I raised my head letting the water droplets run down the drain. I shake my head letting some of the water fly off. I pushed my dripping hair out of my face. I splashed water on my face. Using the hand soap provided I attempted to wash the dirt of my face. I reached in my bag and pulled out a tooth brush. I brushed my teeth.
I looked in the mirror. My face looked less dirty. My hair looked cleaner. My teeth were brushed. I looked at my reflection. A small cut ran from by ear across my cheek. I wasn’t sure how it got there. It would be a scar. I had bags under my eyes. I looked into them. My light green eyes were blood shot. My face was pale except for my cheeks, which were red from the cold. My lips were chapped.
I grabbed my stuff and left the bathroom. The waitress had her back to me. On an unoccupied table was an uneaten bagel. I looked around. No one was looking. I grabbed it and made my way out the door. The small bell on the door rang as I left. She probably noticed I had left without buying anything. But she didn’t stop me.
The cold hit. I shivered. I went down the road. There was a bench. I sat down. I put on my coat and hat. My bag in my arms. My guitar at my side. The bagel in my hand. It was blueberry. I hated blueberries. But I didn’t care. I don’t get to eat much so anything was something. I took a couple bites and swallowed. I looked down at it. Almost gone. I had stolen it. This wasn’t the first time I has stolen something. I was a criminal. I guess. It didn’t matter if I stole a stamp or a car. It was still stealing.
The cold hit. I shivered. I went down the road. There was a bench. I sat down. I put on my coat and hat. My bag in my arms. My guitar at my side. The bagel in my hand. It was blueberry. I hated blueberries. But I didn’t care. I don’t get to eat much so anything was something. I took a couple bites and swallowed. I looked down at it. Almost gone. I had stolen it. This wasn’t the first time I has stolen something. I was a criminal. I guess. It didn’t matter if I stole a stamp or a car. It was still stealing.
I was a criminal. I was broke. I was homeless. And I was hopeless.
Winters here could be harsh. The cold nibbled at my nose and surrounded my body. I felt goose bumps arise on my skin. A chill escaped. I shivered. I picked up my things and made my way down the street. Even though it was early. Almost everyone was up. They awake with the sun. Going to work. Going to school. Happy. Some sad. Some angry. Some misunderstood. But they all have something or someone to live for. What do I have. Nothing I was alone. I had no one. I had friends. But they were nothing more than friends. No one to love me. No one to love. I loved my guitar. I remember my mom had gave me to me for my thirteenth birthday. I loved it. But what does it do for me. Helps me make a few bucks and calluses my fingers. It can’t love me back. It couldn’t comfort me or give me advice or just talk to when I’m in need of it most.
I made my way down the street. I found the closest open store. A small diner. I asked to use the restroom. The waitress said only paying customers. I told her I would buy something when I’m done. I had no money. She led me to the back where the bathroom was. I went inside and locked the door. I put my stuff down on the floor. It was clean. I was probably the first person to use it today after they cleaned it yesterday. I looked in the mirror. My face was dirty. My hair was oily. I had a bad taste in my mouth. I turned on the sink nozzle. Letting it run until it was hot enough for me to handle. I splashed the water on my face. I put my head under the faucet wetting my hair. I raised my head letting the water droplets run down the drain. I shake my head letting some of the water fly off. I pushed my dripping hair out of my face. I splashed water on my face. Using the hand soap provided I attempted to wash the dirt of my face. I reached in my bag and pulled out a tooth brush. I brushed my teeth.
I looked in the mirror. My face looked less dirty. My hair looked cleaner. My teeth were brushed. I looked at my reflection. A small cut ran from by ear across my cheek. I wasn’t sure how it got there. It would be a scar. I had bags under my eyes. I looked into them. My light green eyes were blood shot. My face was pale except for my cheeks, which were red from the cold. My lips were chapped.
I grabbed my stuff and left the bathroom. The waitress had her back to me. On an unoccupied table was an uneaten bagel. I looked around. No one was looking. I grabbed it and made my way out the door. The small bell on the door rang as I left. She probably noticed I had left without buying anything. But she didn’t stop me.
The cold hit. I shivered. I went down the road. There was a bench. I sat down. I put on my coat and hat. My bag in my arms. My guitar at my side. The bagel in my hand. It was blueberry. I hated blueberries. But I didn’t care. I don’t get to eat much so anything was something. I took a couple bites and swallowed. I looked down at it. Almost gone. I had stolen it. This wasn’t the first time I has stolen something. I was a criminal. I guess. It didn’t matter if I stole a stamp or a car. It was still stealing.
The cold hit. I shivered. I went down the road. There was a bench. I sat down. I put on my coat and hat. My bag in my arms. My guitar at my side. The bagel in my hand. It was blueberry. I hated blueberries. But I didn’t care. I don’t get to eat much so anything was something. I took a couple bites and swallowed. I looked down at it. Almost gone. I had stolen it. This wasn’t the first time I has stolen something. I was a criminal. I guess. It didn’t matter if I stole a stamp or a car. It was still stealing.
I was a criminal. I was broke. I was homeless. And I was hopeless.