Hopelessly Hopeful

chapter three

I watched the cars fly be. I don’t have a car. People chaotically rushing where ever they need to go. I don’t have anywhere to go. People flagging down taxis, seeming to be in a rush. I had no money for a taxi. I saw kids with their parents. I don’t have parents. Dogs leading their owners in walks. My dog died when I was fourteen. I sat on the bench watching everything around me. I had nothing better to do. I could play my guitar and get some money. But at the moment I was content with just sitting here.
A girl looked at me then walked away. Then she did a double take and looked at me again. She approached me. She told me I looked familiar and started at me. She did one of those girly sequels and said you’re Hal from Hoping for Hail the one that got kicked out. She told me she loved me and my voice and all that stuff and asked for a picture. I told her sorry and stood up. I grabbed my things. I walked away. She followed me but I ignored her. Eventually she went away. I found another bench and sat down. I watched everything around me. I had nothing better to do.
It was almost two o’clock. I figured I should start playing soon if I wanted dinner tonight. I found a spot on the side walk. I sat down and unpacked my guitar. I started to play random chords and parts of songs I knew. I sang songs from my old band. Sang songs I wrote. Covers of my favorite songs. It was almost five and I only had two dollars and fifty cents. Sometimes it was hard to get money. Sometimes I made nothing at all. And was left with my stomach empty. I had lost a lot of weight in the past months. And was starting to get used to not eating as much. Some days I wasn’t hungry at all but I knew I should eat anyway. My bones were more visible. My baggy clothes hiding it. I was getting tired. My mouth was getting dry. I stopped playing. It was six now. I collected my money. Four dollars. And three pennies left by a little girl who seemed to like me. I packed up my things. But I stayed there. I was becoming more tired and weak every day. I got little sleep and when I did it usually wasn’t the best. And the food I was getting wasn’t enough but it was better than nothing. I see people out here who have it worse than me. I guess I should be kind of lucky that I don’t have it as bad as them. Sleeping in allies. Covered by newspapers. Starving , eating scraps out of dumpsters.
I went to the grocery store. I decided on getting something cheap. I left the store and sat on a bench. I ate my food. Helping my hunger. But not satisfying it. I guess I’ll never be satisfied. I looked at the money I had left. A quarter. A nickel. And those three pennies. I didn’t have enough for a subway. I didn’t feel like playing anymore. And I wasn’t going to beg for money. I didn’t want to do that. To me begging means that you’ve lost all control of your live and you have no options left. I like to think I still have opportunities left. Somewhere. Even though I only need seventeen cents. It was getting late. I was tired and now not many people on the streets. Making it harder for me to make money.
It started to rain. I got up and walked in to the nearest ally.
I came across an empty building. The windows were broken. I climbed on a dumpster and hoisted myself though a window. The small room looked like it had been abandon for quite some time. Cobwebs were in every corner. A layer of dust covered the whole room. The door of the room was closed. I could hear footsteps and voices beyond the walls. I went over to the door and locked it. An old chair sat in one of the corners of the room. I went up to the chair and wiped the dust and webs from it. I sat down.
I was in an abandon building, probably occupied by druggies and criminals worse than me. I was pretty pathetic. I didn’t even have a place to stay. I was tired. Sleep eventually took me over.
I was pathetic. I was a criminal. I was broke. I was hopeless.