As she walked down the street, she couldn't help but feel completely alone in the world. Not only was she alone, she was absolutely and totally lost. She pulled her sweatshirt closer around her as the cold New York wind ran easily through it's thin layer of protection. I know he lives around here somewhere. she thought. She had been walking around this part of NY for the greater part of three days - toting all she owned in a backpack on her shoulders - and still hadn't found him. Last she heard he was in Alphabet City. This was, she had come to understand, Alphabet City. Or at least this is where the guy sleeping down in the park had pointed her when she finally gave up looking and asked. Walking through the masses of tents and boxes people used as shelters, she couldn't help but feel somewhat weary, but she had managed to gather the courage to approach one of the tents. The man in it didn't look much older than she, and although his clothes had been scroungy and his face had been dirty, he was quite a nice person. He had told her exactly where this allusive Alphabet City was, and how to get there. He also told her that if she needed somewhere to crash, there were enough bohemians in Tent City to share food and shelter with her. She had thanked him, but told him that she had to be on her way. She never did tell him WHY she wanted to go to Alphabet City, and the man thought she was much too young to be looking for such a place on her own. The bohemian Tent City resident watched her leave, hoping that such a child would be alright on her own, but doubting he'd ever see her again. She pondered over this man as she walked around the city. Bohemian she thought, Whatever that is... He had seemed nice enough, but she was afraid to let herself open up and trust him, which she believed was a wise enough decision seeing as they had just met, and the man DID live in a tent after all.
She stopped after a while. It was dark out, and she still hadn't found him. She looked at her surroundings. The run down warehouses and small buildings where people were trying to run businesses, however unsuccessful they may be. This is the last place I expected him to be. she thought, wondering why her brother hadn't become a star by now. Or a business man at least, his brains were always the fall back to his music. "An escape plan," he had called them, "something to use if I need them badly enough to leave music behind." Even then, she realized, she knew he would never have let go of music. Brains were useless to someone who could only feel through the notes running in his veins. That had been five years ago, however. She hadn't seen him in four years, and hadn't even heard from him in three. She remembered everything about him, but it seemed to her that she was forgotten. She remembered the day he'd left. She'd been tweleve, and he eighteen. She had cried more than he'd ever seen, and he in turn had promised to come back for her as soon as he had everything settled in New York. He didn't want her to grow up alone in that house. She got a letter every Friday from him for the first few months, telling her of the band he found, the loft he was living in, his roommate, and of the gigs he played at the bars. He didn't have enough money to take her yet. She hadn't cared about the money, but he didn't want her to have to wonder where her next meal was going to come from. As time went on, the letters became few and far between, untill they just stopped coming all together. One year he kept in touch. One year he'd spent promising not to leave her. One year is all it took for her to go from being a little sister to a distant memory, as far as she was concerned. She'd held on hope for him to write again, or even come for her for one year after that. She was fourteen when she realized that was never going to happen. He had forgotten about her. Zoe Davis was all alone now.
A near by car alarm went off, and she was snapped out of her thoughts. It was getting very late, and she knew she had to find somewhere to spend her third night in New York. This is NOT how I pictured my arrival to this "grand" city. she thought as she walked around looking for somewhere to sleep. Her stomach growled and she realized she hadn't eaten since her first day here. She hadn't been able to find anything, and she had spent all of the money she had been able to save on the train ticket from Omaha, Nebraska to New York. She walked a few blocks further looking for shelter from the cold night air, and decided to settle for a bench in the park, being all that she could come up with. She shrugged her pack off her shoulders and layed it on the bench, resting her head on top of it. As she lay there she looked up at the stars. She wondered if she would ever find her brother, or even if sleep would ever come carry her away. She hadn't been able to sleep since she got to New York. She knew it wasn't from hungar, or because she was on the streets and cold - she had dealt with all of that on other occasions. This was different though. This was the first time she had ever felt scared or helpless like this. She was lost in her thoughts, when suddenly her head hit the cold steel of the bench. Someone had pulled her pack out from under her head and was running away with it. DAMNIT! she thought as she took off after the theif. He took off into an alley behind one of the buildings and she followed. There may not have been much in that backpack, but it was all she owned and she wasn't going to give it up without a fight. The alley was a dead end, and the theif had no where to go. He picked up an empty pop bottle and busted off the end. Zoe stopped dead in her tracks, not wanting to run straight into the broken glass dangling from the man's hand.
"LISTEN MAN!" she screamed, "I JUST WANT MY CRAP BACK!"
The man laughed, and ran at her, stabbing aimlessly with his bottle. A shocked Zoe ran backwards and tripped over a box that had been on the side of the alley. The man swung the bottle once more and caught Zoe across the cheek. She felt the stinging, and kicked upwards at the man, hitting him squarely in the groin. This, obviously, didn't make the man very happy, and he dropped the bottle and swung his fist, making direct contact with the cheek opposite the one that had just been cut. He managed to pin her down, sitting on her stomach, elbows pinned down by his knees.
"Now you've gone and done it, girly. I didn't want to hurt you." he smiled maliciously, "but you just wouldn't give up!" He slugged her in the face a few more times, causing Zoe's world to become fuzzy and swirled. I'm gonna die she thought, I'm gonna die here and no one will ever know. Suddenly, the man was gone. He had gotten up and run down the alley, taking her backpack with him. Zoe lay there for a moment, trying to figure out why he ran, and heard the distant wailing of police sirens. Maybe I'm not the only one who thought they were in for it. she mused sarcastically. She pushed herself up onto her feet, and grabbed the wall to keep from swaying too much. She was dizzy, and she knew she still had to find somewhere to spend the night. She began walking out of the ally and noticed a bright red notebook laying on the ground. She bent down and picked it up, looked at the cover, and hugged it close to her heart. This notebook was her life, and it must have fallen out when he ranThe only thing the man had gotten was a backpack with a few clothes. None of which would look very good on him. she thought with a smile. She made her way out of the alley and sat down on the stoop of a building near by. She had only planned to rest a moment, and regain her composure before finding a place to spend the night, but instead ended up crashing into a deep sleep curled up in the corner next to the door, only to be very rudely awaken the next morning.
