You Only Get One Shot

Danger; noun, the chance of harm or destruction, at least that’s what the Children’s Dictionary said. But she was no child. As far as she was concerned, last Monday at 6:13 am when she turned eighteen, she was an adult. She knew that the danger ahead was not by chance, like the definition stated, but by fate.

Emily swiftly ran through the dark, New York allies. She knew little of her personal life, but she did know this was dangerous. She knew not of her family; she wasn’t sure she ever had a family. She mentally laughed at the thought. Every person has or had a family at some point, unless they were made in a laboratory in some crazy government plantation that was hidden far from civilization. Once again she laughed at herself. Her ideas tended to come frequently and irrationally.

Her brown locks hung next to her face like fine chocolate silk sheets, those of which only royalty could afford. Her brown eyes contrasted with her pale completion. All she traveled with were the clothes on her back, some cash she would get from random people on the streets who felt bad for her, and a silver, heart shaped, locket engraved with her name on it. The locket glistened in the moonlight, as Emily stepped out onto the dimly lit sidewalk. She looked around. All she could see were buildings. Most were apartment buildings, others ranging from offices to coffee shops.

She sighed as she put her hands into the pockets of her grey jeans. They were torn in some places, her exposed knees were badly scratched, but she could care less. She had no one to impress. Under her large black, hooded, sweatshirt, she wore a short sleeved, black, v-neck tee-shirt she had gotten from the homeless shelter. After all, that’s what she was. Homeless. At one point, she had been an orphan, but she despised being labeled like that. Orphan just sounded so… horrible to her. So she ran away. Sure, at first she had the police looking for her, but after awhile, they stopped looking for the young orphan. What was the point? After all, she had no one who cared for her.

She quickly spotted the famous McDonalds ‘M’ and entered the store. It was empty except for a boy sitting in the corner, a woman at the counter, and a few others in the kitchen. Emily spotted a clock in the corner and sighed. It was now a little after 2 in the morning. She reached into her back pocket and took out the wad of cash. She had collected a little over fifty dollars on the streets last week. Being a young had its advantages. She took out a ten dollar bill and walked to the counter. “Hello, welcome to McDonalds can I help you?” asked the lady behind the counter in her thick Spanish accent. Oh how stereotypical, Emily thought as she looked at the women, clad in her McDonalds uniform. She noticed the name tag which clearly stated in messy cursive letters that the woman’s name was Marisol.

“Um, can I please get a large fry and a water bottle to go?” Emily asked quietly. Emily was by no means shy. She was very tough, but she felt no need to be loud, what was the point? She could care less if the world knew she existed, she was content with who she was. True, she was scared about the unavoidable dangers ahead, but she would never stoop so low as to show it. She handed Marisol the dull, green bill and Marisol opened the cash register. She slowly put the money in while a shorter, fatter gentleman with green framed glasses put her fries in a bag. Marisol handed Emily the change, which she stuffed into her back pocket, and asked her if she would like a receipt. “No thank you. Have a nice day!” Emily smiled, grabbing her to-go bag and walking out the door.

Emily took off into a sprint, holding tight to her fries. She knew where she was headed and she couldn’t wait to get there. Her old, worn-out, green converse high-tops beat against the pavement with each step she took. She soon arrived in central park her favorite place, the only place where she felt almost… safe. She sat under a tree and ate quietly. She had a couple hours till sunrise, but she didn’t mind. Every morning, she would sit in this exact spot and watch the sunrise and every evening she’d watch the sunset.

She knew her life style was dangerous. She lived in a cold, cruel, world. Many times adults would lecture her about asking for money. “Don’t you know?” they’d ask. “Don’t you know the economy is bad? People can’t be giving out money. How can I trust you’d use it for food, and not drugs? Get outa’ here kid, go back to the shelter.” Their words didn’t faze Emily. She’d been on her own most of her life. Why should she care what they had to say?

Emily laid her head back onto the tree bark. She heard little noise. She closed her eyes but the jolted open when she saw the boy from earlier. “Uh, hey, mind if I join you?” he asked coolly. Emily smiled shyly. “Uh, sure. I’m Emily, and you are?”

“I’m Joe, nice to meet you. I know I’m kind of creeper-ish but I saw you and I had to follow you. There’s just something about you.” He smirked. Emily laughed lightly. “Well, thanks I guess. Why are you here? Awake at 2 am, I mean.” She asked, her now hazel eyes burning into his. “I, I’m in a band, we had an early interview, but that’s not important. I had to follow you and ask you something though.” He said, looking away. “Okay…” she smiled. “Uhm, would you like to go out with me? Like to breakfast in a couple hours?” he stuttered. “Sure Joe, I’d love too.” She smiled

Maybe her life was dangerous. But it wasn’t by chance. Emily lived for danger, she loved the constant state of excitement and fear it held. As far as Emily was concerned, it was her fate and it always will be, but maybe Joe could keep her safe…