Street Child

“Hey gurlie,” the man said. He looked like he was in his late twenties and he was clearly wasted. In his hand was an empty bottom, but the smirk on his face was what scared her.

This happened a lot. Being a teenage girl and all, there were plenty of perverts in the city that wanted to get their hands on her. Not to mention, a lot of people confused her to be a hooker. She ignored the man but he walked behind her, not giving up. The sun was about to go down, making the situation even worse.

“Leave me alone,” she growled, walking faster. Melody was ready to scream if needed or even to raise a fist. She had only gotten in a fist fight once, it was right after she had left home. She was leaning against a building, a warm knit blanket from home wrapped around her. Gran has specially knit it for her when she was born and she cherished it deeply.

Some random bum, a girl a bit older than her, came up to Melody and tried to yank it away. But she wouldn’t have any of that. To be a city child you had to be tough, you had to be a fighter.

She yanked back, scowling back at the girl. “Get your own fucking blanket, bitch.” Her words angered the homeless girl even more so she grabbed Melody’s hair and yanked, pulling her to the ground. She pulled her down with her, scratching the girl’s arm leaving long red marks.

They tossed and turned, all over a simple blanket. The fight finally stopped when a cop came by, breaking it up. “Petty girls,” he mumbled after both of them had walked away. She ended up throwing the blanket away that night, barely any of it was left after the mess.

The man got closer so she started walking faster again, almost running. “I said live me the fuck alone.” A hand grabbed her shoulder and turned her, gripping hard.

“Playing hard to get, baby?” He winked, a disgusting look on his face. She pushed on his chest, but his grip tightened, her shoulder now throbbing in pain.

“Let go of me you pervert,” she screamed, hoping that anyone heard. He laughed, it’s sound evil and horrid. His other hand grabbed her other shoulder, holding tight onto her upper arms. She lifted her knee and hit him right in the groin, loosing his grip just enough to let her break his hold. She ran, not stopping, as fast as she could.

Melody saw a open deli, about to close down the block. She booked towards it, not daring to look back to see if he was still behind her. She ran inside and slumped against the wall, her hands slightly shaking.

The worker behind the counter peered over at her, concerned. “Can I help you?” He was a teenager, no older than nineteen. He had short black curly hair, long curls hanging above his eyes. His voice was deep, much deeper than an ordinary teenager.

“Can I just stay here for a few minutes? Somebody was following me,” Melody said, out of breath. She prayed he let her, she didn’t know what she’d do if she had to go out there again.

“Uh….,” he looked at her dumbfounded, not knowing what to do. “I guess. Sure,” he said more confidently.

“Thank you,” she exhaled, closing her eyes.

The store was quiet, only the faint sounds of cars driving by on the road. Some may found it an awkward silence, but Melody found it calming, peaceful.

“Are you okay?” He asked, walking over to her on the floor. He crouched down by her, examining her. She hoped she didn’t look terrified, she tried too hard to keep a tough exterior. “You look a little shaken up,” he frowned. He got up and walked over to a rack, picking up a bag of chips. Walking back, he crouched down again and handed her the bag. “Have these, it looks like you haven’t eaten in days.”

“It’s been at least a day or two,” Melody frowned. “But thank you. Are you sure?” She didn’t want him feeling bad for her or giving her sympathy. She could hold her own, she was tough.

“Please take them. The boss won’t even notice,” he chuckled. She smiled at him and opened the bag, devouring the chips.

“I’m Greg,” he smiled.

“Melody,” she smiled back.