Well, Have You Gotten Out Of Bed? Have You Gotten Out Of Bed?

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Remington

It's cold.

So cold.

I can't stop shivering.

Why now, does it have to rain? Does God really hate me that much? That on the day I was kicked out of my parent's house, he decided to make it rain?

Looking around, I spotted an overpass that would shield me from most of the rain and made by way towards it.

Going under the overpass. I sat down in a small patch of grass and looked at whatever my mother had shoved into this duffle bag.

"Sleeping bag, two outfits, two pairs of shoes, socks, underwear, a single bar of soap, a reusable water bottle with nothing in it, and an unpopped bag of popcorn. Gee, thanks, mom." I mumbled, unrolling the sleeping bag. At least she left me that so I wouldn't have to sleep on the cold, wet ground. The playground wasn't an option anymore because they decided to rebuild it into a better one. Timing, huh? I got woken up from my unfortunately brief nap by a construction worker letting me know they were tearing up the park and I had to leave.

"This place already occupied?" I looked up and saw a girl holding the hand of another, smaller girl. The older girl's clothes were worn out and tattered, but the little girl's clothes were in somewhat better condition. Whatever relationship the two of them had, the little girl was the priority. She also looked less skinny than the older girl.

"You guys can chill out here too." I shrugged as I put everything back into the duffle bag except for one outfit, socks, underwear, and pair of shoes. The pj's I had been thrown out in were soaking wet at this point and the lower half of my legs were covered in mud.

"Thank you so much. The shelter filled up before we could get a spot in. I'm Miranda, this is my little sister, Joy." She smiled, ushering the other girl underneath the overpass. The storm was only getting worse, and I could see a brief flash of lightning before a loud clap of thunder.

"It isn't really my overpass to dictate who goes under it." I spoke in response, going to a nearby porta-potty to change out of my wet clothes and soggy slippers covered in mud before quickly going back under the overpass. Even if it was my overpass to dictate, I wouldn't deny them. I wasn't an asshole. It was only the three of us down here, so there was plenty of room. I had no idea if others would show up, though. 

I watched a docuseries once about what it was like to be homeless, and now that being homeless was my reality, it left me paranoid and on edge. It doesn't matter how well you think you know someone, they may still stab you. Just in the back instead of the front. It's the same living in a home as well, but at least living in a home gave you a better sense of security.

"You haven't been homeless very long, have you?" Miranda asked as I sat back down.

"No, not really. Why?" I asked, looking over at her as she pulled out a sleeping bag as well. Only this one was more worn out than mine. I guess it was pretty obvious I hadn't been homeless for very long. I doubt someone living on the streets for very long would have 

"Just wondering. Your stuff looks relatively new, and you're pretty clean yourself." She replied as the little girl I now knew as Joy crawled into the sleeping bag alongside her sister. It wasn't a very big bag, so it looked like they were pretty squished in there together. I guess you could consider that to be an advantage with how cold it was going to get with the rain here soon.

"If you don't mind me asking, how long have you been homeless?" I asked after a few moments of silence, now in my own sleeping bag. I had never used this sleeping bag before because we never really went camping. So I didn't really have much to go on in terms of sleeping bag effectiveness. So far, it was feeling like just another blanket, but with more of a plastic feel to it.

"Going on two years now." She responded, holding her little sister, "Our mom kicked me out for liking girls and Joy said she didn't see why I wasn't allowed to like other girls because she thought they were nice and so they kicked her out too. I don't even think Joy is gay, she just doesn't understand that kind of thing yet."

"My parents didn't have a problem with me being bisexual. They kicked me out because a drunk driver hit the car me and my other two brothers were in and the wreck killed both of them and not me. She's convinced it was somehow my fault that they died." I explained to her while absent-mindedly messing with my hair. I had bleached it a sort of blonde-ish color two weeks before the crash. I still had most of it that platinum blonde color, but my roots were starting to show since It had now been about a month or so since the crash.

"Oh my God, I am so sorry. For your loss, and for the way your parents treated you." She gasped, "That's no way for a parent to treat their child." Even though her parents had put her through similar treatment, throwing her sister out with her on top of it, she still had sympathy for me. Maybe it was because of her past. She knew what it was like to be ostracised by your parents.

"It's okay." I shrugged, "The pain's still there, but you get used to it after a while."

"That doesn't make it any more okay." She sighed before grabbing something out of her bag. I looked and recognized it as one of those free reusable water bottles they gave away at Pride last year. I had gone with Sebastian and Emerson and we marched in the rally, so we got the entrance fee waived. Still paid it though, because it went to a good cause.

I miss my brothers.

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