Trouvaille

New beginnings

The cold harsh breeze of the storm brewing blew my jacket open, making me shriek in cold. Huddling my jacket with a broken zipper to my chest I continue to walk quickly towards my apartment. I had to get there before the black clouds in the night drench me.

Too late.

The rain comes down like knives on my face as I walk slowly down the street. The sound of my breath and the pouring rain is my only consolation. The darkness consumes me and I feel like plunging headfirst into the round orb of my reflection upon the ground.

Oh, how easy it would be. To just...end everything.

I'm not usually like this. But a weight of sadness holds me down this day. Everything is just so overwhelming at the moment. Why does something always happen to me? Should I consider myself unlucky?

I will never forget today. Just like I never forget all my other misfortunate days. She's gone. Taking my happiness and peaceful life with her to the grave. A girlfriend? No. Just an amazing friend.

Ms. Dolsen, or how she liked to be called, Peggy, was a kind-hearted elderly woman who owned a bookshop in the middle of town. When I had been on the streets begging for a job, she had hired me as an assistant. I was never able to repay her magnanimity.

Walking past the park, I look up into the rain fog to see it empty. Devoid of life...and when I look up and down the street it's the same. Goen with no soul. The empty streets stare back at me, reflecting my thoughts. I was empty, devoid of life.

As I continue my journey towards home. I reflect on my past unlucky events, like today.

The day I found out my family had rejected me when I was a baby and dropped me at the orphanage.

The days I was bullied and beat for being gay.

Lossing multiple jobs when they closed down or the owners died. It seems the only people who care for a kid who is on his own and alone are elderly people.

Or...

The day I was raped.

April 23.

I was walking home from my job at the grocery store that day. It was cold and I didn't have enough money to buy a car at the time. I had managed to find an apartment only two blocks away, but apparently, two blocks is enough to change a persons life.

The three men jumped me, and at first, I thought they wanted money. I was very wrong.

When they were done I lay there in my own blood in misery and disgust. I never went to the police, I went home. The only person who knows is my friend Bowen. Bowen helped me recover and found me the job at the bookstore. I thought that I would be fine once I recovered from the emotional trauma. It never went away and Bowen dragged me to the doctor only to find that I had PTSD and ADHD.

I have to admit. During that time. I wanted to die.

Just like now.

I looked up through the pouring rain at my rundown apartment building. Looking around I see my bike where I left it. My motorcycle is one of the only things I still have and I will never give it up. It makes me feel free. It was a Kawasaki Ninja ZX-10R and was all black with green accents.

I should have ridden it today. I didn't want to take the bike today because it was a very nice day. I wish I had now. Walking inside I head for the stairs and not the elevator. I was soaking and didn't want to wet the elevator floors.

Sixteen flights of stairs later I stare at the door of my apartment. I shook from the coldness and stiffness of my clothes as I pulled out my key and opened the door. My apartment looked the same as I left it. Dark, messy, but warm.