Maybe I was stupid for leaving myself alone, but maybe no one really gave me the choice. Whatever happened, wherever I went wrong being alone, isolated from the world seemed like the only way to fix things. I don’t know what happened. So I don’t know why I’m sitting here in the dead of winter on the metal swing at Swager’s Park. It’s as much of a mystery to me as the name of this old dump. There’s only two swings and one of two is always tied around a pole for no good reason. There’s a stone well, at least I think it’s stone I haven‘t seen it when it wasn’t covered in snow, in the middle. Sometimes I imagine falling in, would anyone care then, would I make the headlines? I’d be safe here for a little while no one would be coming here until spring, the good sledding hills were across town. This town I remembered. But no one in it.
I don’t have enough information about myself to even fill this page. All I know is I’m different, and people don’t like different. If you ask my how old I am I can only say about 14. If you ask me my name I can only tell you the one I made up, Rayne. Pretty right?. If you ask me where I live or who my family is I’ll say nowhere and no one. All I know is I woke up on the side of the road with a hospital bracelet on. No name only a bar-code. I haven’t spoken in a month and sometimes I wonder if I still have a voice. It seems foolish to try, no one will ever hear me again. No one wants to hear me. I was longing for a journal, to practice my writing and to document my life in case I ever needed to read it. Would any store let me in? Would anyone let me in?
Discoveries
A gust of wind blew a lock of my crimson hair into my face, like a fire was taking over, doubted that considering I was freezing. I hadn’t exactly planned on being brainwashed and shunned if that’s what even happened, so I didn’t pack clothes to wear in freezing whether. I tried swinging to warm myself up but I didn’t want to attract attention. It started to get late and I could feel my eyelids pulling me down. My bedtime routine was tiring which I guess was a good thing. Tired felt like such an unusual emotion for me but like everything else in my life I had no idea why.
More snow had fallen since the last time I’d slept so I’d have to dig out another suitably sized bed. I breathed a heavy disappointed breath as I shoved my bare hands into the cold snow. This time I chose under the swing I knew it wouldn’t block much of anything but it’d block something. I dug like a furious fox digging out his burrow. My hands got so cold they started to feel hot. I had on only a light sweatshirt and jeans. Finally after my hands were just about numb I hit the ground.
Concrete.
Just my luck beneath the swing lay concrete. How could I sleep on concrete?
There in the snow, my knees buried deep I fell forward and I did something I promised myself I’d never do. I cried. I felt the tears rush down the salty taste leak into my mouth, burn the cracks in my dry lips. I closed my eyes and prayed. I prayed for a home, for a family, I prayed for a past, I prayed for something to pray for that I could actually get.
I collected myself and stood up. I was knee high in the snow and I could feel it seeping into my shoes. I was shivering but I wasn’t even feeling cold, maybe because I’d gotten so used to it. Maybe, that seemed to be my answer to everything now. I struggled to make my way to the swing I hopped up and folded legs. I wasn’t warm but at least I wasn’t in the snow anymore. The light in the house adjacent to the park went on. I wasn’t sure if they could see me or hear me so I ducked behind a snow covered hedge. I saw a man's face in the window facing the park, if I’d stayed on the swing he definitely would have seen me. He looked maybe forty or so, but I can’t really tell because I could barely see, and like he’d been sleeping, which he probably was. Even when I’m invisible to the world I’m causing problems. I just hope he doesn’t blame it on one of the neighborhood kids.
He shook himself and walked back further into his house. The light didn’t go off for a moment or so I wondered if he’d been talking to someone.
I wondered if I’d known him.
It kind of sucks going through life looking at faces in the crowd and not knowing what they mean to you. Not that I’m ever in crowds.
I yearned to hear a human voice, to speak back. Conversation would be nice.
I decided that tomorrow morning I would go to the church parking lot where they collected clothes and steal a coat, but until then I’d have to endure the freezing cold weather as is.
I’d been out of the hospital and alone for about a month, wearing the same clothes , running on barely enough food for a small gerbil, drinking melted snow. How can I continue to live like this? I’m not even sure how I’m going to make it to tomorrow morning. I want to choose not to sleep but I’m so exhausted after all that’s been happening that it really doesn’t seem like a feasible option.
It was darker beneath the bushes, but less snowy. I’d take the dark slightly warmer place over the light freeze your ass off place any day. I curled myself up into a ball and stuffed my self under the lowest bush. It wasn’t much of an improvement of temperature but at least I didn’t sink in snow.
I had absolutely nothing to do, I was about to resort to reading the inside tags on all of my clothes but that would mean exposing my skin to the cold I was amazed that I had forgotten who my own parents were but I could still read. I failed to think of a plan I could carry out for entertaining myself.
I rested my head on the soft under part of the bush and just hoped no creepy bugs or fanged animals would wake me up.
I drifted to sleep faster than I ever thought I possibly could.
I woke up the next morning and it looked like the sun had just come up. I wiped the sleep from my eyes and flipped my hair. I’d acquired a squirrel admirer, it stared down at me from a leafless oak tree. I stared back and it scurried down the tree and through the snow to who knows where. Even squirrels hate me.
I tried to think of a good reason to stay alive, after failing I thought of one not to kill myself, it was selfish.
My mind floated as I curled myself under a ball and tuck myself farther under the bush . It was morning, the sun was barely peaking out through too almost connecting clouds. I could see faint patterns in the clouds and maybe if I had friends I would lie out in the snow and try to decipher the complex pictures they hold. But I had none and I couldn’t risk lying in the empty field and being discovered. Discovered, I felt like a fossil. I yawned and stretched my arms as far as I could in the small space. Daytime was the hardest time for me the more chance to get caught. But today was different , the winter was growing stronger, and my bones growing more brittle. I knew where the church was and how to get clothes as they’re dropped of, but I didn’t know how I knew, I didn’t know who I was. The worst feeling in the world is not knowing what you’re feeling.
The snow had fallen about another four inches since I slept and I didn’t think I could stand it anymore, I didn’t think it was possible to snow so much , but like about a lot of things I was wrong. I couldn’t put into words what I wanted, because it would take too long to list all of the basic necessities of life. I wrapped my arms around my cold body and felt myself shiver, my whole body vibrated as I shook some fallen snow out of my hair. It couldn’t have been later than 9:00, and if I took the right alleyways I could get to the church by 9:30 and be back with a donated jacket by 10:00. I’ve seen the charity drive occur every Sunday morning for the last four Sundays, it’s how I keep track of my days.
I yawned and looked around, the rest of the town was still asleep. I trudged around the bushes to an alley between a run down Chinese food place and a small café. There were multicolored bricks on either side of me and scattered remains of what couldn’t be sold from both places over the last week. I tried to stay more towards the coffee side to avoid some of the smell. I decided it would be foolish to walk like a secret agent and if I was seen that would only draw attention to myself so I strut with my lack hood up like I owned the town After the alley there were three paths I could take, I went left to the back of the Café where I could barley see inside. It wasn’t open yet, which I thought unusual, don’t people need coffee early? The sky was a pale grey blanket over the small town. As I rounded the corner of church street I saw the old, grey haired, frail women who organized the event walking up the church steps leaning on her cane. She left the bucket of coats and hats and mismatched hats unattended at the side of the building and I knew it was my time to strike. I casually walked over to the bin as if I was just another church volunteer. I wasn’t greedy I grabbed the first of everything I saw; a fluffy white down coat, a light pink mitten and a light blue mitten, I didn’t other with a hat. I rounded to the church parking lot where a single Chevy truck sat idle. I slipped my thin arms into the jacket, which when zipped hung of me and pulled on the different colored mittens. I had accomplished my goal unnoticed. The warmth of the jacket wasn’t as significant as I had hoped since it was so big but the fluffy white hood ad mittens kept most of the heat in. I tried to take the sameway back, but a series of wrong turns led me to the woodsy parts of town.
It all looked so glum, untouched, untamed, and that’s when I realized it wasn’t glum, it was beautiful. The moist deep brown soil just barely visible under clouds of softly fallen snow much of which was in the high treetops. I felt guilty for even being among the trees, they were so old, so wise, sages of time. I looked up at the cloud engulfed sky and forgot that my feet were moving. By the time I looked around at the brown ringed trunks of trees, they’re all unfamiliar. People say they could look at a thousand different trees and think they’re going in a circle, but that’s because they haven’t. I could see the fragile differences between each tree, how each branched out just a little different and the marks left by the wear of time and woodland animals printed unique patterns. I thought about climbing them, but if I knew one solid fact about myself it was that I was unmistakably clumsy.
The sudden urge for trouble crept up my back like a spider, I knew I couldn’t risk getting into trouble though, so I sat on a molding hallow log to let the urge subside. The urge turned to a cramp in my side, and soon I was hunched over the side of the log clutching at the skin on the left of my waist. Tears streamed down my face, the pain wasn’t unfamiliar, a hunger pain. It took a minute of intense squinting for the pain to finally dwindle, but not entirely fade. I was lying at the side of the log staring at it with red and puffy eyes. I had to stay strong, I couldn’t breakdown again, I couldn’t humiliate myself in front of heaven twice. So I take all my fragile strength and use the log to push myself up. I shook the dirt of my pants and looked up at the sky once more. It was still the same grey blue color, a few shades greyer than my eyes but so much more beautiful.
I walked, I just walked, I walked for miles and I didn’t stop. The morning turned to afternoon and the clouds moved apart, a splash of sun hit my cheeks, and I did not stop. Afternoon turned to night and the sky turned a navy blue as the stars came out to dance, and I did not stop. Finally as the night grew old I walked into a misshapen clearing, it looked like it wanted to be a circle but had miserably failed. I think it had the potential to be a campsite, but obviously not in this weather. I took three or four steps in before my knees collapsed. I feel into the cold snow, and let myself absorb the feeling, I let it numb my knees and I could feel my mouth turning blue. My feet grew so cold they felt hot, and itchy and that’s when I knew I had to get at least a little warmer. I began digging furiously into the pure white. The entire forest once rested untouched, now in a matter of seconds I had ruined it. It took more than a matter of seconds to dig a hole for me to lay. After minutes and burrowing into the snow I had a small opened in it just enough so that I could fit comfortably. I laid back into it, my back pressing the dying grass below, and stared at the night sky. Eventually my eyelids grew heavy, and I fell hard into sleep.
