A/N: Warning: The following angst was (not altogether) accidental.
In other news, I thought it'd be kind of cool if I did a little drabble on Aladdin's thoughts and feelings about his years as a street rat for my fortieth fic on here. I may not be able to post after I hit the hundred mark, because, unfortunately, my sister thinks fanfiction may tell you you can't post anymore after that. Or she said two hundred. IDK. Anyways, every ten fics, I'm trying to write a new fandom, but you may see me here again soon, because ideas for Aladdin run amok in my head all the time!
Homeless. That's what he was.
He never really had a place to go back to after his mother died, after his father deserted them.
He didn't really have a place to call home and it upset him more than he would ever tell.
The days he lived as a street boy were rough; he often got into fights with thugs who tried to steal the scraps he pulled out of trash bags.
He still had a prominent scar on his cheek from when one particular said thug pulled a knife on him.
He had just begun to carve his initials into the boy's cheek when he had talked his way out of the situation, but left empty-handed.
Aladdin was a street rat at heart; though he stared longingly at the palace, and dreamed of the day he would enter through those great double doors, he knew he would feel insecure and awkward.
He belonged on the dusty, dirty streets of Agrabah, with the other thieves and thugs and common folk.
He did not think he deserved any better; he had been placed exactly where he belonged.
And then the day came when he met HER.
He didn't even know her name, but she was beautiful; she took his breath away.
A hood hid her long black hair, but it was finely groomed, which Aladdin found strange for a street girl. What kind of person so intent on survival would have much time to think about her appearance?
And then he had found out she was not a street girl after all, but as a matter of fact, a princess. She lived in the palace he had so longingly watched for so many years.
And now he was with her there, after a breathtaking journey in which he truly began to discover who he really was.
He was more than a street rat, more than just a homeless person begging for money or food.
He was better than that. He was better than the common thugs who pulled a gun on you if you took "their food" or wandered too far into "their turf".
He now understood that.
And now that things were finally turning around for him…he didn't know how to express how thankful he was, and knew that Jasmine would never understand.
She had seen for herself how cruelly street people were treated, but she had never had to live that way.
She had never been homeless, and for that Aladdin was very, very glad.