Hope For The Best

I felt warm. What an odd feeling, a feeling I had forgotten. Ooh, softness. I felt my body being rested on a comfortably soft fabric. I must be dreaming. Heaven? I had never gotten the opportunity to experience a visit to Heaven, so I didn't know what it would feel like. But after being out on the street for a few years, wherever I was, it sure did feel like Heaven. I did not even want to open my eyes, I was too frightened that it was all a dream, the feeling I was experiencing. But oh my, it felt so real. I took a deep breath, drawing in the scent of plastic. One, two, three -- I opened my eyes. My eyes fell upon a wall of white, hosting one single framed photo, the picture looking as if it had been drawn by a four-year-old. And they call that art. Pft. I've seen more art in street graffiti than in paintings such as the 'Mona Lisa' by what's-his-name.

I tilted my head to the left, hearing a strange beeping sound echoing slightly in the quiet room. What is this place? Before I got more time to ponder any longer, the door opened and a young-looking woman dressed in all white stepped inside.

"Ah, you're awake." She sent me a warm smile.

"Where am I?" I asked.

"You're in a hospital," the nurse said and I could see on the badge fastened to her uniform, that her name was Ellie.

"How the hell did I get in here?" I asked, trying to sit up.

"A couple found you outside, nearly dead, and they brought you in. Mr. and Mrs. Way. They asked to be informed when you'd wake up, I'll contact them once we're finished here," Nurse Ellie said, picking up a needle and picking up my arm. "This won't hurt, might sting a little, though," she smiled again, and puncturing my skin with the pointy needle. I was used to pain so I didn't wince or twitch as I watched the needle pierce my skin.

"There," Ellie said, her smile never leaving her face.

"What happened? How long have I been here?"

"Uhm, you had hypothermia but you're fine now. And you've been unconscious for three days," she said, answering my questions. "Do you have a parent we can contact? Or a guardian? An address?" It was my turn to answer.

"No."
A simple answer.

"What's your name and how old are you?"

"Boyd and... sixteen three days ago."

"Where do you live?"

A pause. What was I gonna say? That I was a runaway, a worthless street kid, who had been living on the street for the past two years? Oh fuck it. Like it would make a difference? But it felt nice to talk to her, talk to someone, someone who actually listened when you spoke.

"Nowhere," I said.

"Nowhere? What do you mean?"

"I mean that I live on the street for two years, I ran away from home two years, when I was fourteen."

I watched the nurse's smile drop and her face was filled with sadness.

"Anyway, is there anything else you gotta do?" I said, changing the subject.

The nurse looked quite awkward as she straightened up. "No, I think we're done here. I'll go and call the Ways, they wanted to check on you once you'd wake up." With that the nurse walked out.

I sighed and fell back, resting my head on the pillow. My thoughts raced inside my head, wondering why the hell someone found a reason to save him from the street, let alone wanting to talk to him. Him, a worthless homeless person! I should just go. Save them the trouble of throwing me out. I knew they'd throw me out the second after the Ways' would leave. No, I should stay. I wondered why they would want to talk to me.

My mind drifted off, far away from the hospital bed and I completely zoned out. It wasn't before I heard another knock on my door and saw the same nurse from earlier peak her head inside, the kind smile still plastered on her face. For some reason I felt happy when I saw her smile. I knew nothing about her, but it felt nice to know that someone cared. Or at least showed some kind of affection.

"You feeling okay?" she asked and I nodded. "Mr. and Mrs. Way are here. You want me to show 'em inside?"

Again I nodded.

Within a few minutes, they arrived. Mr. Way was tall, strong looking and came off as quite strict, whilst Mrs. Way was almost the complete opposite; small, sweet face and nearly angel-like. Well, she came off as the kind of a person who puts those she loves in first place and would do anything to protect them, herself in second.

"Hi sweety," she said. Sweety? She doesn't know me at all yet she calls me 'sweety'. Man, this oughta be something good. I grinned to myself.

"How are you feeling?" the man said. "You were in some pretty bad shape when we found you," the man said.

"I feel fine." My reply was short, maybe sounded a bit rude, but I was tired and confused and didn't pay much attention to many things. They made no comment.

"That's good," she said. "I'm Donna, and this is my husband Donald."

I smiled. "Thanks," I said. "Thanks for saving my life." My voice was low, and I wondered if they even heard what I said.

"Oh we didn't do anything, except bringing you in, darling," Donna said, her small face beaming at me. "What were you doing out there, anyway? By the state of your clothes one might think you'd been out on the street for a while," she added, thinking she made a joke.

"I have."

"Have what?" Donald asked.

I hesitated. "I have been out on the streets for a while. Quite a while, really," I said quietly.

"Oh my..." Donna said, bringing her hand up to her mouth. "Oh. That's terrible! What happened?"

"Well, I, uhm, ran away," I said. "Two years ago."

"Why?" Donald asked, pulling a chair towards the bed, and sitting down.

"I -- uhm..." I didn't feel comfortable discussing it, especially to someone I've never met before and didn't know.

"It's okay, you can tell us," Donna said, smiling kindly.
I shook my head.

"That's all right, son," Donald said. "You don't have to tell us, if you don't want to." He checked his watch, then looked at his wife.

"I guess we better be off, gotta pick Mikey and Gerard up from school." His wife nodded and they both stood up.

"You're right, darling," Donna said, giving her husband a small kiss on the cheek. She turned back to me. "We'll come check on you tomorrow again -- if that's okay with you?" she said.
"Okay," I said, feeling tired all of a sudden, but thankful nonetheless.

They left, leaving me with a uncomfortable feeling of emptiness and confusion. As if they'd actually be bothered to come visit e again. After everything that had gone on in my life, they would forget about me by the time they had got to their presumably big and expensive house, walking back to their perfect and suburban lifestyle.

"And I don't want the world to see me,
'Cause I don't think that they'd understand.
When everything's made to be broken
I just want you to know who I am."

I turned my head and stared at the radio, listening to the song which felt so fitting in my current situation. Sort of.

Despite the sick feeling of unfamiliar lonliness, I felt happy. I didn't know why, I just felt happy. Someone finally acted as if they cared. Someone was actually coming back to see me, just to make sure I was okay. And truthfully told, I think I was okay. After all this time, who knows how often I've thought about dying. And attempted it a few times, but was too much of a coward to actually go all the way through with it. For the first time in my life, I felt like things were getting better. Well, better than they had been for the past years.
Few days passed, and then my life really started to change for the better. Let me explain why.

On my fourth day since I regained my consciousness (the doctor recommended that I spent at least a week more in the hospital, before I could leave), Donna came to visit me again, alone however, and something in her behaviour told me she brought good news.

"Hi," Donna said, smiling as usual. "How're you feeling today?"

"I feel better," I replied, sitting up-right in the bed. I pushed the pillows higher, supporting my back better, and reached out for a glass of water on the bedside table, bringing it up to my mouth.

"I have some good news," Donna said.

"Yeah?" I said, suddenly anxiously waiting for her to tell me.

"Okay...we want to -- only if you want to yourself -- to come back with us, once you can be discharged from the hospital."

I was speechless, silenced for a few minutes whilst I tried to focus on her words. I didn't understand. Come back with her? Where?

"What d'you mean? Go back where?" I finally said.

"Donald and I have been thinking a lot, and we, uhm, want you to go home with us. Stay with us. Y'know, live there with us and we'll provide you with food and a roof over your head for as long as you want," Donna said, the smile never leaving her face.

I stared at her, not realising my mouth was slightly hanging open. I laughed. "You mean it? You really -- you want me to like -- ?"

"Yes!" Donna said, grinning. "For the past few days we've come here to visit you, we really think that we can help you. I know we don't have to, but we really do want to. You obviously haven't had the best of days in your life, and I'm not forcing you to come, but if you want to, you can."

Before I could think for a second longer, I immediately opened my mouth and said loudly, "Of course!"

Donna beamed. "Great!" she said, bending down to hug me. Hugs. Weird, I thought. I haven't been hugged since...
My mind wandered off into space, and I obviously looked quite off, for Donna nudged me gently. "You okay, hun?"

"Yeah..." I said. "Just a little... confused... but thankful -- don't get me wrong, I really appreciate your offer but I don't want to be a inconvenience. I mean, I'll just be in the way and --"

"Oh, don't be like that. We really want to help you, but if you don't want to --"

"Thanks." I smiled. She returned my smile.

"The doctor said I could be discharged tomorrow, if everything's normal," I finally said, still trying to put my mind focused on what was happening. I couldn't still believe it. This is too good to be true. Too good.

"Okay. So we'll come back around noon, to get you, then?"