Marcus stood in front of the orphanage. The walls had long since crumbled and in their place stood thick beams of wood, blackened and charred from where the flames had licked at them. Remains of the orphanage stood in the pale morning light like a skeleton. It had been so alive, so vibrant, to those walking by. But inside was another thing...Inside had been a place of fear, pain and false sense security, of, a place with memories torment. His fingers secured around the cigarette as he began to light it.
Happiness is just the absence of pain. These days, that's the best I can hope for. Dad would tell me to lighten up. ''Lifes not a dress rehearsal. Trust in gods plan." Marcus wondered what he would think of gods plan if he lived to see what they had done to him in that boy's home.
His fingers secured around the cigarette as he began to light it. Just as he removed it from his pink lips, he inhaled deeply, letting the smoke seep into his cells. Held it there trapped, thinking how his lungs must hate him now having so little regard for them they must be screaming at him at the top of their lungs, he blew the smoke. watched the ribbon of smoke twist and squirm like a garter snake in torment trying to escape. The ash sprinkled across the cement when he flicked the filter.
If he'd seen what i had to do, to get out of there. If he'd heard the screams in that fire. Shit maybe this is gods plan for me. Hungry. Homeless. And want by every cop in the city, for a dozen murders.
With one last glance to the orphanage, in the corner of his eye, he spotted a lone cop car. Calmly placing the cigarette between his lip, he grabbed the headphones around his neck before placing them over his ears, along with the hoodie to cover his head.
A positive mental attitude is essential to survival out here.
Marcus found a spot, behind the back of a bus stop. It was covered in what seemed like old, crumbled up papers, some marked with graffiti, some not. In front of him was a brown wall, covered in graffiti. He sat down, leaning back to admire it. He had his little setup. A cup for change and a sign that made it clear what he wanted. Across from him to his right, another person just like him, sat down waiting for anyone to take pity on her.
These fucking people make to hard. Lunictice, gangbanger, pushers. You can only stay on your toes for so long before you wake up with a screwdriver in your gut all.
Blinking he pulled out his notebook and began drawing. Putting little notes by the picture.
I ever wanted was the mundane shit that everyone takes for granted.
Marcus looked up, a little jealous at the couple and their child, as they walked by. Holding onto their child and he and the kid make eye contact.
Somewhere I belong, a safe place to sleep.
But his eyes stawed as the walked past, to a man holding an almost eaten burger. He watched the man take one last bite, before putting into the box it came with and throwing in the trash bin.
To know where my next meal is coming from.
Walking over to the trash bin, he picked up the abandoned burger and took a bite. Savoring the taste while it lasted, ignoring the various looks he received.
O see it in their eyes. Easier to think I've done something to deserve this. In my case, maybe their right.