Daniel Madison: Homeless Boy by Sylvana Gorgui

I walked down the alley that had become more of a home to me. The crinkled, dry leaves crunched under my old, torn-up sneakers, left to be blown away in the wind like the pieces of my heart. There is no hope, Daniel. There is nothing here! NOTHING! Mothers’ last words to me rang in my head as I lay down on my cardboard bed. That would be the last drive she would ever take.  Father left us when I was just three, and mother was never able to get a job and could not pay off the debt she owed. On the night she killed herself, I was thirteen, left in this same alley, destined to become another homeless boy.

I am now sixteen years old with nothing to show for it. I didn’t have a birthday party. No cake or presents to signify my growth. Most kids my age would be able to take driving lessons soon. I  have to rely on my own two feet.

In middle school, all the teachers said I would amount to something great. I remember one of the conversations I had with my favorite teacher, Mr. Smith. I had just finished my Science Final Exam, and was about to leave the class when he called me to his desk.

“Danny, my boy! You are the only one in this class with a perfect grade on your final! Congratulations, kid. You are really going to make it in this world,” he said, patting me on the back. I had gotten straight A’s since the first grade in every class. I wanted to learn so much. Memories haunted me as I tried to sleep. Having newspapers as blankets did not help much to block the bitter cold air whipping through the city. Nor did it help to clear my head. I have accepted my fate, but the flashbacks would not stop coming.

Finally, sleep overwhelmed my body, and I was able to get an entire four hours; a record for me. Slowly, I moved each of my stiff limbs, praying that frostbite had not reached any. Dawn neared, shedding a few of its lights into my alley. The sounds of activity were always heard. Yet, in the morning, I seemed to hear them more. All those who had jobs headed to work, honking their way through the streets.  Time for breakfast, I thought miserably. Two nights ago, I was able to scrounge up half a pizza in the nearby dumpster. The rest of it was gone by last night. Hopefully, the dumpster would not fail me, like it did every once in a while, leaving me to starve.

The rays of sun, by this time, lit up a small corner of the side street, and I sat there for a while, soaking up the sun. Though the sun did not seem to provide much heat in the winter, it was better than having to sit in the darkness. Should I try Shanghai Chinese Food? Maybe Tom’s Italian? The Chinese restaurant probably has a bigger dumpster. I passed by Vivian Taylor’s and  grabbed a shirt from a bag in the ‘fashion rejects’ pile in the trash. It was dark blue, with the letters V.T. on one the pocket. At least I can look wealthy, even if I have no money. I kept my same pair of jeans on and wore my old Adidas jacket.

I was so focused on trying to cross the street, that I knocked a book out of someone’s hand. “Watch it!” she  snapped. I turned to see a young girl I recognized. Her name was Sarah Green. I had the biggest crush on her all throughout middle school, but never had the guts to tell her. After all, she was my best friend, and I didn’t want to make our friendship awkward if she didn’t like me too.

“Sorry, Sarah,” I mumbled, hoping the light would change quickly so I could escape this uncomfortable moment.

“H—hey, Danny! How are you? Where have you been?” She reached over and gave me a hug. I hoped to God I didn’t smell bad.

“I, uh, transferred. I go to Devens High now,” I quickly lied. If she knew I was homeless, all hope of this friendship rebuilding would be lost. I knew how she felt about the poor. After a bad experience with a man who she tried to give her change to, she never felt kindly towards them again.

Just then, my stomach growled loudly.

“Oh wow you’ve gotten skinny. Are you on a diet now or something? Come on! Let’s get some breakfast at my house!” She led the way to her two story townhouse. I left my sneakers at the door, and wandered into the memorable surroundings. I remembered coming there as a child many times before. Sarah and I would play hide and seek and we would watch TV in the den. I instantly missed those times. We ate toast and sausages and eggs; I had seconds of everything. I couldn’t remember the last time I had a full breakfast.

“So why don’t you ever come over anymore?” she asked me, clearing away our plates.

“I don’t know. I’ve just been…busy.” I said quietly, bringing my empty cup to the sink.

“Well so have I! Am I not important enough for you?” She gave me a teasing look and led the way back outside.

Of course you are important! I thought about you every day! I wanted to shout those words to her. I wanted her to know how much I cared. But the words wouldn’t come. They were stuck in my throat like the syrup on my pancakes.

We walked down the streets, talking about high school. I lied about the classes I took. I lied about all the new friends I made. I even lied about my mother, saying she was well and that we had just come back from a cruise to the Bahamas. Every lie hurt, but it was what I wanted to hear. It was what I wanted so desperately to be true.

Before I knew it, we passed my street. Not the alley where I lived; it was the street where my old house was. I held my breath as we neared it.

“I almost forgot how beautiful your house was! Did you get a new car or something? You’ll be able to drive it soon! Isn’t that exciting?” she asked me.

“Uhh…yeah,” I said, looking at the red truck sitting in the driveway.

Sarah grabbed my hand and squeezed it lightly. “It’s good to have you back.” She walked down the street and turned the corner, heading back home. I couldn’t watch her leave. I continued to stare at my old home. The big stones lining the driveway, the clumps of grass that never grew evenly, the flower plants that were on each step  up to the porch. It was all gone. Now, there were small lights lining the driveway, the grass was green, and there was one flowerpot left. It contained Hellebores; mom’s favorite flower.

I sat on the steps and wept. What was the use of meeting Sarah again? She was going to find out my situation sooner or later, and I preferred never. So, taking a deep breath, I walked back to my alley. And I was determined to stay there and never associate with anyone again. Forever I will be, Daniel Madison: homeless boy.