The Drummer on the Second Floor

I had been watching the drug dealer for a while now, he was stood in a corner, looking around until another man came. It seemed a lot of drug dealers came here, waiting for their buyer and I’m beginning to think about staying here much longer. I’ve lost too much weight for it to be healthy and my chest feels like it’s closing over due to the cold weather.
Rick’s been giving me the odd ten pound a week, but he’s been busy and I understand that. But the feeling of being completely out here alone is making it’s way into my mind and polluting it until I go mental. I knew I’d be out here alone, I did, I just thought since it’s the middle of a city, I wouldn’t be alone, but considering the state of me, I didn’t measure up the pros and cons. I just want a friend, and Rick’s barely here anymore. Rick said I’ve been holding up so much better than he’s seen any other homeless person and truly, I don’t know how I’ve gotten this far.
It’s been two weeks into December, Christmas was considerably close and believe me, so was the cold. But never once have I thought about going back home, even when I was shuddering because of the chill and crying because of the loneliness, just one thought of that house made me shudder a lot more than the cold. I do get that my parents love me and believe me I’m lucky to have both, they feed me, house me and educate me, but nothing can compare to the feeling of almost abandonment and the lack of affection I get from them. Way to go Theo, make yourself sound like a spoilt ass 8 year old. And as lame and cliché this sounds, some people just don’t get it.

My stomach made a ghastly noise and I grip my jacket more so over me, my fingers pain from the icy touch of the weather, I swear and watch some people walk by. None of them look at me. No one. They don’t want to look at me to really look me in the eyes and they don’t want me to see them. They don’t want to make themselves feel guilty, or maybe I disgust them. Some people just don’t care. I don’t ask for money, I don’t have a sign, I don’t sing or play an instrument, I just sit and watch and maybe that makes people angry, the fact I’m here homeless but don’t ask for money, don’t beg. But what I’ve learnt since I’ve been out here, is that these people, these people in the streets, without a home, they don’t beg, they just want to get buy, and if doing what they can do, like draw or sing, they’ll do it and they’re brave to do so. The majority of people on these streets aren’t drug addict or alcoholics they’re just people without a home, a place to go to.

I haven’t heard the sound of my voice for days and I’ve thought about signing myself into a hostel, but I held myself back. My mind freezing me in one place. Other people need it more, they really don’t have anywhere else to go, you’ve got a home. So here I am, still in the same spot. I’m punishing myself I think. For what I don’t know.

“Deep in thought?” I heard a familiar voice behind me. Ash was flickered onto the ground then the touch of a warm body sat beside me.
“Can you please put that somewhere else, my chest is bad enough already,” I sniff, casting a glance his way.
“Sorry I haven’t been around, I’ve been doing some things with some guys who are in a band,” he said, the cigarette still remaining in his fingers.
“That’s nice,” I said, turning my head as much in the other direction of the cigarette as I can.
“Come on, Theo, I know you’re in a bad place, but I need to get on with my life too,” Rick sighed, placing his hand on mine.
“No really Rick, that’s nice, I was enjoying being alone in the cold, watching people get their drugs,” I turned to face him again, his mouth parted slowly and finally he threw the cigarette on the ground.
“Oh that’s good. Sorry I’ve been trying to improve my own life and forgetting about the boy who puts himself through misery just so he can get back at his parents,” Rick said, stomping on his cigarette and walking away.