As drops of crystals made their way one by one falling. Being covered in that mushy white cloud the apartment's cross the road topped with.
Black mix with gray foggy clouds push pass the window. Looking at this scene through the glass noticing the greyer then usually skies thinking to myself, perhaps another blizzard ganna decent on this city.
As I knee on the couch, face close to glass. People stroll up and down some with umbrellas, jackets, some with sweaters, muts, earmuffs, scrap, various hats, coats warped around themselves.
A bit windeir then how it normally is be, winter wonder dance's in the bristling breeze.
I continued to look fixated on the crowded streets below. Their own life going about, not caring enough for the suffering individuals begging for food and other essential they needed for their daily lives.
This city never changed from the way it is, an evil glum of trash I thought. A few seconds goes by before I turn around to face the living room space. A dog fight erupted in my stomach it felt like a ticking time bomb ready for exposure, it always is feels this way.
I get up going for the fridge knowing what I will find, my eyes flock to moldy cheese, expire milk, haft a dozen eggs with four left in the carten, day old meat of some sort, and one single potato which had a strange type lump growing out of it.
I growl with frustration then slam the fridge door the look of displease shows on my face.
While I fidget my little of both cold an warm fingers trying to think of what to do today.
Because my dad won't be back till twelve today, that's if he doesn't lie like usual. If he have any money maybe I could beg on hands and knees for a few dollars, that's if he even willing to listen to my plead.
I think for a moment then rush to my closet type room to check the kitimeer. A special type of clock you can see the time and date or night or day since it hard to tell from the skies.
Our atmospheric condition a daily basis in this city, all around, maybe even farer then I ever been before.
Feeling irritated by the current situation brought on by all this, I look to see that it was just 8:34. "you get to be kidding me I let out loud going straight for the bathroom to get ready.
An hour later I was done my hair brush, cleaned clothes on, a dirty worn out bag leaned by the foot of the big couch as I bin to pick it up.
I was ready for a day of hustling, I shot a glance at the note my dad left on the dining room table. "sayde if you go out today lock the door behind you.
Why do I never get the normal parenting approach?. Like if you go out be safe, I hope you doing well today, eat before you leave if you go out today . . . . I love you. But no just lock the door like always.
My dad's not the caring type, not anymore, at least. I want to hate him, I want to not care but my mix feelings keep getting in the way of that.
I shouldn't have read the note it just brought on more burden and anxiety. Something I didn't want to start the day with I try not to let it get to me as I hung my backpack over my shoulder and dismiss out the front door remembering to lock it behind me.
YOU ARE READING
remembered the runaway seekers
AdventureLife is hard. Life is pain. Life is brutal. For some prolong like three young teenagers who finds out life can change in a spit second for the better, or maybe for the worst. Can they get through this before it's too late.
