Someone's Someone

Someone's Someone - Chapter Four

Danny....

Just when I thought that the world was full of only prejudiced and selfish human beings, the friendly vision of her came into surprised view. I have felt so isolated for so long now, I find it increasingly difficult to engage in normal conversations with normal people.

As soon as I saw Henna, I recognised her right away. She was jumped on whilst she struggled to get her umbrella up after getting off the bus a few nights ago. I've seen a lot of violence, and have been on the receiving end of such violence, but her screams made me want to help her. Why, I don't really know. I suppose I just wanted to see whether I had it in me to actually fight back anymore.

I have been kicked, spat at, punched and verbally abused many times over, but have never fought back. I am living rough and I quickly learnt that being treated like that just came with the territory. Feeling like a nobody, helps you to quickly accept being treated that way. I long ago accepted that this was how my life now would be. Which is why I have never reacted to those who did all of those things to me. But when I saw that woman being mugged, when I watched how she valiantly fought back and heard her frightened screams—something inside made me react. When I scared those lads away, I just remember looking at a mass of pretty blonde windswept curls and kind eyes that were dulled by shock and fear. So when I saw her again, I instantly recognised her. She had the same mass of pretty blonde curls beneath her thick woolly hat and the same kind eyes that in the light of day, I could now see were a warm and lovely shade of hazel. When she first came over, she was polite, if a little nervous. And although I recognised her, I was thrown a little by her forthcoming niceness. When you live on the streets, you don't encounter too many nice people. But Henna was nice. She was actually kind of sweet when she asked to take me to the café. But I felt that her just being friendly, was thanks enough.

Someone like her doesn't need to spend time with someone like me. So I declined. As nice and as sweet as Henna actually was, I just couldn't accept her kindness. If I'm honest, I felt embarrassed to do so. She looked about the same age as me, and maybe under very different circumstances, I would have been the one asking her to join me for a drink in a café. But she is who she is and I am who I am, so I frustratingly refused to join her for that offer of a warm drink and some food. When I did refuse, it was admittedly said much harsher than I had first intended. Being on the streets does that to you. It makes you guarded and sceptical of any kindness shown to you. Too much time sitting and laying your head against the unforgiving concrete keeps you tired and disillusioned, and tired and disillusioned leaves me with very few manners.

But Henna then did something so unbelievably sweet, that I could no longer continue being rude to her. In all of my time being on the streets, no one has ever bought some cushions, some food and some drink, then sat down beside me. Henna ignored the looks that she was being given, because she wanted to sit with me and she wanted me to finally accept her thanks. And I did. I really did.

In just the short amount of time that she sat with me, I can tell that Henna is one of the good people in this world. There's a natural softness about her and an infectious smile that'll brighten literally anyone's depressing day.

And that's exactly what Henna has done—she has brightened my depressing day.

Now as I watch her walk away and down the busy street, I smile to myself.

Although I still think she's a little mad for doing what she so thoughtfully did, I think she is the cutest kind of mad that I have ever encountered.