|
Post by Street on Sept 27, 2009 18:59:06 GMT -5
"You're perfectly welcome." Street said, smiling. She sighed and watched her breath fog. She shivered-not from the cold, she was actually quite warm, but from fear. Would anyone fade away tonight? It happened often in the winter time, kids faded away. She glanced at Thad. He couldn't fade away, he was too strong. But was she strong enough.
"Thad..." She started. "Everyday I feel it, feel it pushin' down on me and tryin' ta do away with me. I don't know if I'm strong enough ta fight it off anymore..." She whispered quietly, half-hoping he wouldn't hear her. She had just needed to say it to get strength from it. To keep pushing and surviving...
|
|
|
Post by Thad Turner on Oct 1, 2009 15:05:35 GMT -5
"Thad..." She started. "Everyday I feel it, feel it pushin' down on me and tryin' ta do away with me. I don't know if I'm strong enough ta fight it off anymore..." She whispered quietly, half-hoping he wouldn't hear her.
"Street?" Thad said turning to the girl. It was the first time he'd seen her like this. It took him a moment to understand what she meant. He was quiet. Thad wasn't sure what to say. "I...I...wait, you mean to tell me someone as strong as you thinks that they can't fight this cold anymore? Street...no...you're the strongest person I've met since bein' in this city- in more ways than one. See people think you are strong if you fist fight someone and win, and maybe that is why I act like I do and get myself a bunch of black eyes, but it's not right. Fighting doesn't make you strong- I am realizing this. What makes you strong is standing up for what you believe in, and I know, i know you do that," he smiled. "Just in case though; I ain't gonna leave ya tonight Street. I'll stay with ya- unless you'd rather me go back to the Bronx. That's fine too."
|
|
|
Post by Street on Oct 1, 2009 19:59:30 GMT -5
Street looked up at him with wide, amazed eyes. She... was strong? She bit her lip. "Thank ya..." And then she hugged him briefly and then stepped away, feeling awkward. "Would ya really do that for me, Thad? I couldn't ask it of ya." She murmured. "But, it would make me feel better." She finally admitted. She smiled. "What did I ever do to deserve to meet someone as nice as ya, Thad? But... Strength is also standin' yer ground and never backin' down. I may stand up for what I believe in, but I'm all talk. Ya, ya are all action. And, actions speak louder then words. Some people don't hear too well." She told him. "Ya have a backbone, that's strength ta me." She said, smiling and waving her hand airily.
|
|
|
Post by Thad Turner on Oct 3, 2009 18:49:48 GMT -5
"Thank ya..." And then she hugged him briefly and then stepped away, feeling awkward. "Would ya really do that for me, Thad? I couldn't ask it of ya." She murmured. "But, it would make me feel better." She finally admitted.
Thad awkwardly hugged Street. "I'd do anything for ya. You're a good friend. The best friend I've ever had, and I've only known ya for a day," Thad smiled, "I'm just glad I can comfort ya."
She smiled. "What did I ever do to deserve to meet someone as nice as ya, Thad? But... Strength is also standin' yer ground and never backin' down. I may stand up for what I believe in, but I'm all talk. Ya, ya are all action. And, actions speak louder then words. Some people don't hear too well." She told him. "Ya have a backbone, that's strength ta me." She said, smiling and waving her hand airily.
Thad's eyes lit up as Street spoke. He'd never had people comment him and she'd been doing it all day. "I dunno if you realize it, but to hear you say all this- it means a lot. No one in this world ever treated me as nice as you do Street. I thank you. Now, let's get out of this wind. Can we head under the bridge?" Thad smiled.
|
|
|
Post by Street on Oct 4, 2009 15:54:31 GMT -5
Street nodded, "Yeah, let's get under the bridge." She tugged on his blanket and lead him through some overgrown weeds, she weaved and ducked her way through the weeds like it was boring to her. She turned at a rather large bush and pushed open a wooden fence and squeezed through an opening that was created when you pushed a couple planks to the side. She emerged under the bridge, the large structure towered above their heads and the stone wall was slimy. Small campfires were lit every so many feet and children ran in every which direction, some had mournful looking parents watching them, while others had no one but themselves. A few kids had no shoes, like Street, and many waved to her as she passed.
She lead him to the top of the embankment, by the bridge wall that was slimy. A pile of grass and old blankets and coats were laying against the wall. The impression of a small body curled into a ball was permanently pressed into the make-shift bed. Some older, tougher-looking, kids also had their makeshift beds up along the wall. It provided the most protection from the wind, snow, bulls, and occasional floods. Everybody who made the bridge their home was their, Street was silent as she passed beds that had nobody to claim them, no one to ever lay in them again. These were the kids that disappeared in the night, forever claimed by someone greater then them all.
"This is my home." She said simply, gesturing down the small embankment. Little tents were being hoisted up into place, while others just climbed in between coats that had been heated by river rocks thrown into a fire. Street felt around her bed in the dark and pulled out a flint, carefully, with her tongue sticking out between her teeth, she created sparks, letting them catch on the last piece of dry newspaper she had. When they caught enough, she threw bits of grass and kindling obviously pulled from someone's shed onto the fire. She held her hands to it and warmed them. "See? Nice little fire."
She dug through her bag and pulled out to potatoes-they were only a day from rotting, and someone had thrown them out. She pushed them onto sticks and handed one stick to Thad. A small boy with no shoes and almost no clothes or fat on his body sccuried up to her. "Hiya Street, got anythin' ye can spare?" He asked in a whispery, weak voice.
"I always got somethin' for ya, Roger," She handed him some red meat that she'd risked the Refuge for. "Be sure to cook it a bit, it'll help ya grow strong, honest." She smiled at him, but he was already eating the meat raw.
"Would it have helped Thomas?" Roger asked. Street bit her lip and shrugged, Roger slipped and stumbled back down the slope, calling his thanks. She waved to an older boy passing who paused.
"Who's your friend?" he asked, sounding bitter. He walked away without waiting for her answer.
"That's Corin, he's an old man in a young man's body." She laughed quietly. Someone hissed at her to be quiet. "Sorry, Mrs. Donelly." She whispered back, flushing. "So, what do ya think?" She asked Thad quietly as she checked her potatoe.
|
|
|
Post by Thad Turner on Oct 7, 2009 15:33:32 GMT -5
Thad looked around. There were a lot more people than he'd expected there to be. He moved to the side as a younger kid ran past him. There was something about the place that made Thad want to smile and frown all at the same time.
He looked at the bed of grass and old blankets. It would be considered pathetic to many, but to him it seemed nice. It was better than the cold stone sidewalks he was used to sleeping on.
"See? Nice little fire."
Thad grinned. "It is a nice little fire," he said. The heat from the flames warmed his hands. He rarely had fire. Sometimes when he stayed in the back of one of the Allies there would be a few older men with fire going, but Thad was rarely welcome there. "Thanks," Thad said quietly as Street handed him the stick and potato.
Thad looked up at the small boy. He'd seen kids that were skinny, but never like this. Roger was the kids name. Thad didn't see how this kid could make it. He was so weak. Thad wanted to do something for him, but really what could he do. Just as the kid turned to walk away Thad stopped him, "Roger...take this too." Thad handed the boy his potato and smiled. He felt a little better now.
Thad stared as the older boy who passed. Thad wrinkled his nose at the boys attitude.
"That's Corin, he's an old man in a young man's body."
Thad laughed along with Street until the women told them to be quiet. Thad looked around. "I like the place," he said as Street asked him what he thought. "It's cozy. Actually it's wonderful compared to sleeping in back allies alone, but then again that's my life style," he shrugged.
|
|
|
Post by Street on Oct 7, 2009 17:22:57 GMT -5
Street smiled brightly at him as he shared his potatoe. She split her in half and carefully handed it to him. "Here, it's hard ta sleep on an empty stomach. Ain't that right, Corin?" She called, a thrown rock that narrowly missed her head was his answer. Her grin grew wider, showing this was a daily occurence. She sighed, looking around. "I like it too..." She said after a slight pause. "I-I don't really like bein' with all these other people. But since this place is spread out more, it's nice. I don't like the alley ways. The men there were always drunk and rude." She sniffed softly. "Some people are nice, like Roger, while some people are meaner-like Mrs. Donnelly." She whispered. "But... ya get memories here. Like Thomas... He was a good boy-around our age. But one day... He fell inta the river and never got better." She shook her head.
|
|
|
Post by Thad Turner on Oct 20, 2009 16:48:10 GMT -5
"I-I don't really like bein' with all these other people. But since this place is spread out more, it's nice. I don't like the alley ways. The men there were always drunk and rude." She sniffed softly. "Some people are nice, like Roger, while some people are meaner-like Mrs. Donnelly." She whispered. "But... ya get memories here. Like Thomas... He was a good boy-around our age. But one day... He fell inta the river and never got better." She shook her head.
"Thanks," Thad said taking half of Street's potato. "I kinda like the ally ways. I mean like ya said the people are drunk and rude- sorta reminds me of back home," he laughed quietly. His expression changed as Street told him of the boy named Thomas. It was just terrible to think of. Poor kids dying each day just because no one cared. "People are selfish," Thad said in a low tone as he stared into the angry fire, "There are so many out there that could save kids like Thomas, but they don't. I've noticed that a lot of people think if they don't see us then we aren't there, and then they don't feel bad about letting us starve ya see. That's why people always look right over our heads. If they don't make eye contact then there is nothing to worry them. It ain't right, but it's how things are around this city. I guess maybe it will always be that way."
|
|
|
Post by Street on Oct 21, 2009 15:00:24 GMT -5
"...If they don't make eye contact then there is nothing to worry them..."
Street nodded. "Ya know how that one person said, 'Eyes are the windows to the soul'?" She quoted carefully. "Well, it makes sense now. If they don't look inta out eyes... Then they won't see our souls." She shrugged.
"There was this man... I forget his name. Riis, I think. But he came up ta me when I was sittin' on a stoop a while back and he asked if he could take my picture and inter-view me. I told him he could. Asked me all sorts of questions, like 'what's your name?', 'how old are you?', 'where do you live?'. I told him I lived under this bridge and he gave me a funny look and said, 'are you sure?'. I don't think he wanted ta believe me." She shrugged. "He asked me what I thought about life. He asked what I thought about how other people lived in the city. I told him that life was good ta me, I was still alive. Then I told him that I thought everyone lived like I did-but then again, I was only ten or so. I told him that I didn't mind bein' photographed, 'cause then... People would remember me. People always remember someone if they have their picture." She sighed and looked into the fire.
|
|
|
Post by Thad Turner on Oct 23, 2009 15:07:58 GMT -5
He asked me what I thought about life. He asked what I thought about how other people lived in the city. I told him that life was good ta me, I was still alive. Then I told him that I thought everyone lived like I did-but then again, I was only ten or so. I told him that I didn't mind bein' photographed, 'cause then... People would remember me. People always remember someone if they have their picture." She sighed and looked into the fire.
"Huh..." Thad said pondering everything Street had just said. "You're right about pictures, and how people remember ya when they see your picture. I'm sure everyone who saw you in the paper that day will remember ya till the day they die." Thad smiled thinking of it. Who would remember him? He thought. Then he realized he didn't care if he was remembered or not. He didn't care about others. It just didn't seem to matter. "Hey you care if I get some shut eye. I'm beat," Thad asked Street as he yawned.
|
|
|
Post by Street on Nov 2, 2009 18:25:26 GMT -5
Street tilted her head. "Nah, I don't mind. Ya can have my spot. I got too much ta think about... Won't get much sleep." She gestured to the pile of blankets and grass. "Go ahead, no use tryin' ta be gentlemanly about it, I won't take no for an answer." She let the fire die down a little, then picked up a piece of paper that had scratchy hand writing all over it. She picked up a piece of charcoal and wrote something carefully, with her tongue sticking out in concentration. She checked a forgotten newspaper beside her.
"T-h-a-d." She spelled out in a whisper. She struggled to remember what the letters looked like. It had been so long since she had written anything different the usual. Years since she had written a name down.
|
|