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Beyond my small meaningless existence in the world, I knew there was more. I knew that out there, in the big blue and green ball that we call earth, in the inky nothingness we call space, there was so much more.
I was just a small, meaningless peck that took up space, oxygen, and a life. I was without a job, a house, a family, and now a future. The entire universe seemed to be betting against my small form, pressuring down on me until my knees gave out and my determination gave in.
I still pushed for a better life, still pushed for something, anything. Everything seemed pointless, and I knew that without a proper education, I was doomed. My parents were dead, killed by a bank robbery, and I was left without their support. Their house was taken off of my quivering shoulders, and I was thrown onto the streets.
I seemed to claim an alley, and anyone who I guessed homeless as well grew to know my pathetic figure as well. I scrambled for scraps, committing small and overlooked thefts for food and clothes. The routine was basic, and I grew used to it.
Back when my parents were alive, I was a fairly attractive person. Now, my hair had grown at least two inches, and though I'd found a knife cast away in a dumpster, kept for good use, I couldn't cut my hair. It was as if my growing hair was a trophy, one that exhibited the hard times I was enduring. I didn't think I'd ever cut my (Hair Color) hair, to be honest.
I'd grown to know other homeless people as well. An elderly man with a long whitened beard, as well as a balding head, had claimed an alley not too far from mine, and we crossed paths constantly. There was also a crazy red-headed woman I tried my best to avoid, a dark-skinned man with stunning gold eyes that could rival fourteen karat gold itself, and a young Korean boy who hauled a mangled teddy bear with him constantly.
Those were the people located nearest to me, and the most familiar faces. We grew comfortable with each other, and if I ever saw someone I hadn't seen before arguing or fighting with them, it was no surprise that I'd shank said person in the back without so much as a second thought.
Today, I'd decided to treat myself. It was a long, boring day, where nothing exciting happened at all. All my seemingly allies had rested soundly in their nearby allies, no noise emitting from them except the occasional snore or a cough. I'd decided on sneaking into a certain restaurants kitchen, one I'd had my keen eyes set on for weeks.
I'd analyzed certain people and their personalities, as well as their shifts and regular activities. I knew exactly when to sneak in, and if I didn't catch that exact moment, within a second it could be lost.
My lanky form was hunched behind a dumpster, eyes narrowed at the steel door. It was opened, the warm light and music protruding outside. "Aw come on, Casey," The boy held two large trash bags in each hand, looking over his shoulder with a grin. He had short brown hair, along with big turquoise eyes that reminded me of the sea. "Just man up and clean out that mould yourself, don't want any kitchen inspectors seeing that."
I recalled them having the same argument only yesterday, though it had gotten way more heated than this light-hearted banter. Both of Casey and this boy, who I recalled was named Paul, were stubborn teenagers who refused to clean the mould formed in the freezer. They seemed to argue constantly, and last week Paul had received a nasty burn on his hand due to fighting with Casey over a big bowl of soup which had just finished boiling.
The two argued, slowly growing more aggressive. Paul had thrown the two garbage bags into the dumpster beside me idly, eyes only scrapping over my shadowed figure before turning back to the door.
I shadowed behind him, watching him open the door wider and step in. I followed his movements carefully, as silent as a mouse. Once Paul had reached the kitchen, I darted into a nearby door, entering a storage room holding spices. The air smelled of paprika, causing my nose to twitch.
I watched the three cooks occupying the kitchen scurry back and forth, exchanging snarky comments and insulting each other's cooking. They weren't very good at working together, which was their major flaw. There was a small bell, and I took that as my cue. The three of them moved to the exit, and I knew within two short minutes new chefs would be here in their place.
My slender hands grabbed different foods swiftly and carefully, filling unnecessary amounts of takeout containers. I filled at least ten containers, stocking them into a plastic bag.
I turned, and a figure stood by the doorframe I had snuck in from. I fully expected it to be a late worker, coming in sheepishly with a hastily formed excuse, only to find a thief placing their mangy fingerprints all over the kitchen.
I was surprised to see a tall figure, whose stench of smoke and body odour competed well with the excruciating smell of spices and such. He had patchy blond hair, with was smouldering at the ends. I guessed the patches were singed off.
"Oi, Hoggie!" The man called over his shoulder, causing me to cringe in shock.
"Are you mad?" I hissed under my breath, glancing over my shoulder shortly to see if a nosey worker had peeked in curiously. "You obviously don't work here, why the hell would you wanna be caught?"
"C'mon, ya nabbed all the goods, might 's well get somethin' outta this." He answered me with a grin, and a certain sparkle in his eyes set me on my guard.
If it wasn't the blond man's crazed look that freaked me out the most, it was the towering man behind him that sent me cowering. He had on a gas mask, his plump figure carrying many tattoos.
"I'm Junkrat, this 'ere is Roadhog," I vaguely recalled the names, though I couldn't remember where. "Mind sharin', Sheila?"
I froze, tracking my mind until I remembered the bag of food I currently clutched to my chest protectively. I quickly nodded, digging into the bag, then producing half of my findings.
The larger man stepped forwards, taking the containers in his huge palms. I couldn't tell if either of them were grateful or not, but I couldn't care less. I needed to go, I couldn't have a criminal record, not after all of my suffering.
"Howsabout we meet again and raid another restaurant sometime, hm?" The blond chimed, grin widening as he waved at me, "Take it easy, mate."
Just like that, the man was gone. Both of them moved out of the room with incredible speed, and I almost thought they were a mirage.
If it weren't for the nearing voices of the next shift of workers, I would have stood in that same spot gawking for god knows how long. I pried my feet from their glued position on the floor, grabbing my bag of takeout from the counter.
I retreated from the restaurant as fast as I could, though clumsier than usual. My mind was completely taken by this man with flaming hair, emitting a smell of gunpowder and smoke.
I didn't even notice the two figures perched on the rooftops above, following me to my alley. They even sat down, eating their own takeout as they watched me eat mine.
