Here We Are - Patrick Park

The sky grows dark and the people stray away back to their houses and buildings, almost cowering away from the night and the dark. If they were leaving, I probably should as well, I don't know what could be out here at night.

There was a pretty good chance of stray cats and dogs running around, trying to find their own place and fight for what was theirs. I push my glasses up as pull my beanie over my ears, the wind picking up and blowing around.

The sign taped to my bag fought to come undone and the tape was peeling away quickly, being caught in the wind. Quickly I grab a hold of it and peel it away from my bag, unzipping it and putting it into the bag carefully.

Business wasn't good today at all, only two or three people came up, including the first couple I met in the previous hours of the day. It was so and sad but it would get better soon, and I knew it would because as some people say, every cloud had a silver lining.

I wasn't really sure how to feel about it when I first heard that from someone, it could always be a lie somehow but to this day I'm still not sure on how to feel about it. Some girl told me that when I was in another state.

She was a sweet girl and I really liked her as a good friend but one day before I left, she said that she would come say goodbye and she never did. I guess for her, it was hard to say goodbye or she never really cared about me...

I slip my bag over my shoulder and hold onto the straps tightly, my fingers turning white from it. Never being here, the first night was always the hardest for me, not knowing the troubles of the city or how the people act around here.

I step across the street quickly, the sun fading behind the tall buildings and setting beyond the horizon and pay my view. For me, my life is like a game almost except you only have one love to waste away and for most, they live life to the fullest extent possible.

The most I have is a sketchbook and a few souvenirs  showing where I've been and what I've seen around places. I was proud of my sketchbook though, it slows who I really am and that I made work off of what I love to do.

My work is a part of me and I think of people as a canvas, a blank slate until events happen and leaves marks on their body's possibly being permanently placed. My slate though... I wasn't sure how to tell my story because there happens to be a lot I think of myself, I don't have a person to tell me how they see me...

Although, I don't think I'd like the opinion they'd give me and knew it was probably similar to the one I've given myself and suck to my label. My opinion would most times be different from how the world views me and how they choose to treat me.

It was almost pitch black when I reached another street, crossing and continuing on my way to find a cheap place to stay or an empty alley way. I hum a tune softly and I loosen my grip on my bag, stuffing a hand into my pocket.

The streets were quiet now, not a single person in sight and for an odd reason, that bothers me because I was worried about the people that I couldn't see. The wind blew more now and it blew my bangs all over my forehead, ending up in my eyes every few seconds.

I took my hand and tucked some of my bangs behind my ear but they blew right back into my face, making me trip over my shoes and losing my balance. I caught myself though, only scraping my hands on the pavement and wincing quietly.

I quickly stand back up, wiping my hands on to my jacket and getting all the dirt and stuff off, my hands were probably bleeding. Not being able to find a cheap place, I keep walking around and try looking for an empty alley way to stay in for now.

Every alley way I saw was filled with trash or it had red eyes in the back meaning that was an animal territory and I walked off each time, no matter how tired I seemed. My legs ache and my heart is thumping against my chest in fear, no lights left except the lamp post.

The darkness was never my friend and I don't think it ever will be because I was terrified of it in several ways. People creep up on you in the dark and you can't see it, the darkness hides the bad things so that when your out, it'll get you.

"Stupid dark... I can't see shit," I mutter to myself.

Suddenly, I felt something tug on my bag and yank me back, making an embarrassing squeal escape my lips. My eyes went wide and I was tossed to the ground.

"N-no," I yell.

My glasses came off and my vision went blurry, only being able to see a few blobs which I assumed were people. I feel around for my glasses and find them, putting them on.

The person instantly reached out, trying to grab my bag. I scramble back and tighten my grip on my bag, keeping it pressed on my back and shoulders.

I was pulled up onto my feet from behind and I squeal loudly, squirming under their touch. One yanks at my bag while the other throws a punch at my stomach.

I drop and groan in pain, my bag easily being slipped off my shoulders and taken away. I lay on the ground and groan, turning to see the two people running off with my bag...

"N-no," I whisper out.

My bag...

My money...

Gone...

How was that?