I knew from a young age that I refused to grow up. I knew that I had to depend on people, just like I knew that I was different. I knew many things that I loved about men. Men had to be taller than me, they had to be strong, they had to had facial hair, they had to protect me. Because I was different. They didn't know it, but I did.
Each relationship that I had was different. They would never understand a part of me. They thought that I had a mental illness. They thought that I was too different and that I was overly sexual. They did not know me, the real me.
Man after man entered and walked right back out of my life. My mother kicked my out of her home because she had heard rumors of me, being a whore, and sleeping with every man that I laid eyes on. This was my mother. She should have given me the benefit of the doubt, but this was not what happened. She abandoned me and left me when I needed her the most. My father will get a hold of me through text message. I'm just a small little lonely girl, alone in a big city.
Nobody understood. Not one person. Currently, I was walking down the side of the road, moving in and out of people. It was easiest this way. People couldn't see me and they wouldn't stop and talk to me. When my mother kicked me out, she gave me 50 dollars and a bus ticket to another city on the other side of the country.
My father still sent me money once a month so that he knew I wasn't starving or dead. He doesn't really speak to me and my mother refuses to talk to me.
I kept my head down and my feet quick so that I could get to the shelter on time. I was kicked out of a luxurious home to end up in a homeless shelter each night. Occasionally, I bumped into people on the street. They gave me stares that made me want to die. I hated to be stared at and I felt unsafe. I didn't know where else I could go. If I did not get to the shelter soon, I would be stuck to lay in the streets tonight. Bad things happened to pretty little girls on the street.
I walked up the steps to the shelter, and a woman held a hand up in my face. "I'm sorry, hun, but we are closed for the night. We are too full." She said.
I dropped my jaw. I was always here on time. How come today they were full? I shake my head and I blink back tears in my eyes. "I have no where to go. Where am I supposed to sleep?" I asked her.
"Try the shelter downtown. They fill up pretty quick and they close in twenty. If you have money i'd haul a cab." She told me and shut the door in my face.
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I stood on the curb, rain falling, and heartbroken. Tonight was my first official night without a bed to lay in. It was pouring rain and all of the money I had was soaked. My clothes were soaked, and I had no where to go.
It did no use to cry, because my tears just mixed up in the rain. I shivered and stood to my feet, walking down the street. I tried to stay in the light, because it was dangerous at night. I knew there was a bar around the corner. Maybe they would let me in just to dry off and I would leave when they closed.
As I got to the bar, I walked in and then the air made me more cold. The door closed behind me and all heads turned to me. There was quiet music and I whimpered in the back of my throat. I needed to hide so they couldn't look at me.
"What are you doing in here sweet heart?" A drunk man called to me, walking closer.
I ran past him, hoping to find the ladies restroom. I opened the door and locked it behind me. This place was disgusting, but I had no where else I could go. I sank to the floor and I cried. Nobody understood me.
There was a knock on the door. I sniffled and I whimpered. Another knock, and another. "Let me in please?" A man said.
"No," I whispered, tears falling down my face. "no."
The door handle jiggled and then the door bursted open. I screamed and held my body in a fetal position. Sobs escaped my body and I knew what he was going to do to me. The door clicked closed behind him and he stayed by the door.
"I'm not going to touch you. I won't come near you. I just would like to know what you're doing in a dirty bar? You look like you're a model or something. You should be home." He said.
I peeked through my arm at him. "I don't have a home." Is all I said.
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INTERRUPTION WITH THIS PIECE OF HUNK
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He didn't say anything, he just looked at me. "You do not need to be in this nasty bar." He said, with a different, stern tone to his voice.
A part of me purred at his sternness. I sat up on the floor, with my arms around my knees. "Get up, you will come with me to my car, and I will let you get warmed up. You can come to my home and call someone." He said.
I stood up and I ran to him. I couldn't help it. I needed to be told. I thrived off of it. I saw a hint of a smirk plastered on his lips. I moved my body closer to his and he brought a hand around my waist, and we walked out of the bar, into the rain.
His car was a black sports car. He walked to his side and he got in. I opened up my side and entered. The leather seats were freezing. I shivered and my teeth began to clatter. He turned the heat up on high and I think he even turned on seat warmers. I could feel water dripping from my hair down my body.
"Why are you in New York City, and homeless? This is the worst city to be homeless in." He snapped.
I stayed silent and I played with the end of my wet shirt. "Not that it's your business, but my mother kicked me out." I said.
"This is my car. You will speak to me with respect."
I nodded and looked out the window. "Sorry."
"Whats your name?" He asked me.
"Bailyn Schierer." I said, looking at him.
He had a beard, longer hair on the top, shaved on the side, and from what I could see he was muscular. He commanded respect and he was already protecting me.
"Bailyn, my name is Ethan Jennings."
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Here is Chapter one! I am so excited to write this *heart eyes* because I'm on my laptop!
