Let's See What You're Not

Shim

The ride to the shelter was hell. I honestly don't know what’s wrong with me anymore. I jumped off the pier; I was that desperate for a way out. I don’t even know what I was thinking. Part of me still thinks it would’ve been easier if I wasn’t saved, though. There isn't anyone left to miss me and there’s nothing here for me to live for. It’s true. When things get fucked up in my life, I don't have any security to fall back on. My parents won’t help me, my friends are nonexistent and Frizz and Black Beard would probably kill me if it meant they could have a good meal. I’ve messed up what I had with Mark too. There’s no one.

“We’ll be there soon,” Harrison Blake told me in a calm voice.

I don't want to get there. He thinks everything will be better if I have a roof over my head, but it won’t be. On the streets, it’s easy to know who you can trust and who you can’t. You can get away if someone’s causing trouble and you don’t have to put up with two faced liars. At the shelter, there’ll be staff with attitudes like Harrison Blake. They’re not there to help. The only reason they’d work there is for money. You can’t trust people who are after something. If they’ve got an ulterior motive for helping you then you should refuse they’re so called help. They won’t do their best; they’ll just do enough to get a pay check and not be fired.

Anyone who wants to help you is a liar: Mark’s a liar. I thought I could trust him. He made me think that he was safe. For the first time in years, I could actually hold a conversation with someone and feel comfortable around them. He had ulterior motives too, though. He kissed me. He’s just like Aunt Jenny and Nick. They were nice to me and they gave me attention to make me feel like I was worth something.

Full circle. It’s all coming back around again. It started with Aunt Jenny wanting more than a goodnight kiss on the cheek. She said I had to use my lips. She made sure I used them the way she liked it as well. That’s what Mark wants. He wants to hurt me the way she did. Why else would he do something like that? To top it all off, Mark got his dad everything and made this happen. I shouldn’t have trusted him.

I closed my eyes tightly then and mentally screamed at myself. Mark’s too nice to be like that. Deep down, I do know that he couldn’t do that. He does care. If there was anyone out there who’d be upset by me jumping off the pier; it’d be him. He would’ve blamed himself...

My teeth bit down on my lip hard to stop it from quivering. He really would’ve blamed himself. If I died... Shit. He kissed me then I ran off like that. Plus he thinks I’m mad at him for what his dad did. What I did has nothing to do with him, but he obviously would’ve put things together wrong and reached a ridiculous conclusion.

If I died, I actually think he’d cry.

I don't want him to.

Ever.

“Why did you jump?” the posh git next to me asked. That name suits him more than Harrison Blake. What sort of name is that?

“I felt like a swim,” I told him with a glare, almost challenging him to question my excuse.

“You could’ve died,” he told me.

“As if you care,” I snapped at him. “If you gave a damn about who lives and who dies, you’d give my bed at the shelter to someone desperate for it. There’s thousands all over the city that struggle to survive, but I'm coping just fine,” I ranted. “I love it on the streets, but there’s people out there who need help. They don’t get any, though, do they?”

“It’s impossible to help everyone,” he told me in a cold voice.

“It’s even harder when you ask for money first,” I hissed.

He gave me a dark stare but I just smirked at him, knowing that I hit a nerve.

“I have no idea what you’re trying to suggest,” he told me, harshly.

“I’m saying that Mr. Goodwin has a load of money and you showed no interest in me before he told you. Is that why you don't help everyone? Because people on the streets can’t afford to bribe you for a room?”

“Who do you think you are?!” posh git snapped at me, bringing a smirk onto my face. I got under his skin and made him angry. He wouldn't react so dramatically if he didn't already know that I was right. That’s how these things work; it’s exactly like what I said earlier: Everyone has an ulterior motive.

“I'm Shimon Moore.” I smiled, putting my hand out for him. “No?” I teased as he refused to shake it. “Never mind.”

“It’s not surprising that your parents kicked you out,” he told me bluntly.

I just laughed at him, not giving him the satisfaction of a comeback. People only make comments like that to make a point or to get a certain reaction out of someone. I'm not giving him the reaction he wants. My parents didn't even kick me out, so why should a comment like that bother me? He knows nothing about why I had to leave. He never will.

He thinks he knows what I'm thinking, but no, he really doesn't. No one understands what’s going on inside my head and I don't want people to try and make sense of it either. Everyone at school will think they have me all worked out now. They think I misbehave because I'm homeless; bullshit. I’ve never done what the teachers wanted me to. The only change in me since I became homeless was the stealing lunch’s thing and that wasn't a big deal. I only hurt Mark and he forgave me. He’s too good for me.

He might be the exception to all my stupid theories. I know he wasn't helping me to be like Aunt Jenny. He was helping because he wanted to; maybe not all people need a motive.

Harrison Blake walked with me as we went into the shelter, acting as if the confrontations in the car never happened. I'm assuming he didn't want his colleagues to know what he’s really like. The building looked pretty old and to be perfectly honest, it looked like a dump. I don't want to be here.

“Shimon Moore,” he told the woman at the desk. “I filled his paperwork in earlier.”

She nodded at him and passed a room key over the desk. I just stared at it when he held it out for me. Why would I want to take that?

“It’s yours,” he told me, sharply.

I snatched it off him then. If he really wants me to take it, then I’ll take it, but I’ll make sure that he regrets putting me in here. I can’t blame Mark or his dad for this. In fact, I should probably be blaming myself. The thing is, I don't. Right now, I see this as Harrison Blake’s fault. If he stuck to the rules and put me to the bottom of the list, instead of accepting a bride, then maybe I wouldn't be in this situation. I wouldn't have been taken from my home at the end of the pier and dumped into this place.

I know that I can’t be sure that Mark’s dad offered him money, but I'm not an idiot. Why else would I have a place here when there are others who need it more?

The system is screwed up.

My room was on the third floor. The place is built like a block of flats, so the third floor isn't that high up at all. Imagine how many people are in here. The building stretches up really far so there must be hundreds. That means hundreds of people have been taken away from the streets. There’re still people out there, though. If there are so many in this building, then giving people a shelter mustn’t actually solve anything. If that was the solution, these people would’ve fixed their lives and gotten a proper home by now; they wouldn't still be stuck here.

It wasn't hard to find my room: Room 28. The corridor leading up to it was long and narrow, but that was to be expected. I had my guitar and my bag with me as I opened the door, ready to face whoever else was in there. The posh git told me I was sharing with two other guys my age; unfortunately, I'm not that good at sharing or being with other people.

“Who the fuck are you?” A guy with thick brown hair snapped at me when I walked in.

I smirked as the two boys turned to face me, looking alarmed. Without answering them I jumped down onto the only empty bed in the room. They’ll get the message eventually.

“Are you deaf?!” the taller one barked. “Why are you in our room?”

“I live here,” I told them, dully.

The two looked at each other and then back at me. They each had an evil glint in their eyes, but it didn't scare me one bit. I’ve dealt with evil and I don't care anymore. If they want to mess with me, they can bring it on. I won’t stop them.

The taller one walked over and stood next to my bed, looking down at me. A normal person would find that intimidating, but I'm too numb to feel anything at the moment. I nearly died before. I survived death! I don't need to fear these guys yet.

“This is your side,” he told me, gesturing to the small area around my bed. “The rest of this place is ours. Don't fuck with us,” he warned, “we will hurt you.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” I told him, sounding bored.

It wasn't that I didn't think they were capable of hurting me -they were big guys and could definitely break my bones- I just didn't care about them. When all of this settles in, I’ll probably think differently about all this. For now, I'm fine with them and their pathetic threats, though.

“There’s no second chances, mate,” the other added. “Piss us off and you’re dead.”

“Nice to meet you too,” I told him, yawning just because I felt like pushing them to see how they’d react.

He stuck his finger up at me and went back to working out at the side of his bed, like he was doing when he walked in.

It’s clearly all happy families in here. I don't even know their names and they have something against me. There’s nothing weird about that; no one has a good first impression of me. I'm just an asshole.

The shelter provided meals, so different groups of people were sent down at different times to eat their dinner. I was obviously with my dickhead roommates, as well as a load of other people. I sat at a table on my own and kept to myself. The food was better than having no food, but it wasn't exactly great. The company was even worse. I was happy to be sat alone, but seeing everyone else was what made it difficult. Everyone seemed to know everyone else and they all had their own little groups. It’s just like school and I don't fit in with anyone; not that I want to.

Some of the older people have looked over at me and given me little smiles, but I refused to return them. I'm not here to be liked. I'm just here until I can find a way to leave.

When I was bored of eating I went back up to my room, hoping that my best friends would be too busy socialising to come back anytime soon. I grabbed my journal from my bag and started flicking through the pages.

I wish Mark was here. It hasn’t been long since I last saw him, but because of the kiss he’s been flicking through my mind a lot. I don't want to lose him because of one stupid little kiss. I don't want to think about whether or not I wanted it anymore. I just want to think about him. I'm sick of having no one and sitting on my own, refusing to join in. If I wanted to, I could make friends here, but I don't want anyone else. I just want Mark.

What if I’ve lost him now?

I smiled as I started scribbling some new lyric ideas down into the book. It was so full of stuff now that I had to write really small in it.

Don't walk away
And leave me without a reason
When there's too much to say
That hasn't been said
I know I was wrong
And I'm sorry for making the same mistakes
Don't walk away

I smirked as I look down at the piece of paper. I don't want him to see any of the stuff I’ve wrote in here, but I don't mind writing things about him. As long as he doesn't see it, I won’t feel embarrassed or awkward by it. Part of me wants him to understand that I do like him, but I'm scared of everything changing if he knows I want to be his friend.

Oh well. He probably hates me now anyway.

Can you really throw away
All the times that we've recovered
One another
And I know I make it hard
But how long should I pay for being
Unappealing

I jumped and chucked the journal back into my bag when I heard my roommates coming in. They didn't say anything to me; they just carried on with their conversation and went to their side of the room.

I managed to fall asleep eventually, but it didn't last long. I was woken up by them idiots throwing a glass of water over me. As soon I realised what was going on, I closed my eyes and pretended to go back to sleep. Ignoring them felt like my only option. They kept harassing me during the night, but I refused to let it get to me.

The next morning, I headed out to school after having way less sleep than I’d get on the streets. I didn't get breakfast either because I wanted to get out of there. I obviously took my bag and guitar with me, knowing that it wasn't safe to leave anything in the room with them.

I was an ass all day at school. I ignored everyone. They all looked like they felt sorry for me. I didn't do any work either, but because the teachers think they understand me now, they didn't mind that I wasn't doing anything. Mr. Hamilton called into his office for a chat too but I didn't speak to him. I didn't speak all day.

I ignored Mark. Last night, I spent a lot of time thinking about how much I missed him; when it came down to it I couldn’t even face him. He walked past me a few times, carefully seeing if it was safe to talk to me. I guess he decided that it wasn't. I looked angry all day so I couldn’t blame him for not making the first move, I wasn't going to act first either, though.

I don't know what’s going on with us anymore.

Emma attempted to talk to me in maths, so did Mrs. Morgan. I gave my teacher the middle finger to make her leave me alone, but I wasn’t as harsh with Emma.

“Mark’s been upset,” she told me, quietly.

I knew I’d end up hurting him.