Even If Saving You Sends Me To Heaven

My eyes shot open, and I struggled to catch my breath as a large amount of some cold liquid hit me in the face. I looked around confused for a couple of seconds, before I spotted a guy with white clothing on. I looked up at his face, and that's when he bent over, grabbed my collar and screamed at me to get the fuck away from his restaurant and that he didn't ever want to see another homeless person around. I then shoved me back down, stepped away, and waited. I was shocked, to say the least. I looked around, and I saw that indeed, I was in front on a restaurant. The street I was laying on was deserted, and I spotted a blue washing bucket next to the chef, no doubt that it one contained the water hitting me in the face to wake me up. George left me on the streets last night? The chef in front of me looked so mad, all I could do was nod. I tried to make myself get up, but I wasn't able to. The pain was unbearable, and my whole body was fighting against me. It didn't take long for the tears to flow, and I looked at the chef helplessly. He just let out a sarcastic chuckle, telling me to get the fuck away and to stop faking so I could get food. He also said that he would call the police if I wasn't gone by the time he had counted to ten. I gulped, and tried to pull myself slightly off the ground. With a lot of strength I really didn't have, I managed to get myself into a sitting position. The chef looked down on me with disguist, before his lips parted, and he started counting. I nodded in a way to tell him that I was going, before holding my breath and leaning forwards, fighting the urge to scream as I managed to get into a crawling position. I slowly crawled as far a way as possible, and his counting stopped when he saw me leaving. "Don't ever come around here again, you filthy piece of shit!" he yelled and walked into the restaurant. I crawled a little bit further away, before sitting down, leaning up against a dirty wall.

I don't know how long I sat there, trying to collect myself, before I finally looked up, trying to figure out where I was. Soon enough, I recognized my surroundings, as I saw a smaller Best Buy on the street corner. I forced myself to get onto my feet, holding on to the wall for support as I walked over to the store. I peeked through the window, seeing a computer on display. I looked to the bottom right part of the screen, and horror filled me when I saw that it was 11:55 already. I knew that the Starbucks was at least six blocks away, and I would never make it by the time I was supposed to meet Gerard. Even if I ran, which I wasn't capable of in this state, I wouldn't be there on time. However, I realized that Gerard was the only one who could somehow take care of me. Even the hope of him being there made me feel slightly better, and I slowly started to make my way through the streets of New Jersey.

As I had guessed, I didn't see Gerard's car parked outside of the coffee shop when I finally got there after what seemed like hours. I slowly made my way over to the enterance and walked inside, trying to act casual and pretended that everything was fine, as I glanced around the room, looking for him. The smell in there was like heaven, but heaven didn't last long as one of the employees came over to me, telling me in a very rude way that "this isn't a place for homeless people to stay warm". I nodded, feeling the need to punch him, but in stead, I just walked back outside, and stopped. What was I supposed to do now? I had no where to go, no one to talk to and nothing to live for. I sighed, feeling the tears wanting to come back to me. I walked a couple of feet away from the enterance, and around the corner, before easing my way down onto the sidewalk, leaning to the wall like before. My whole body was sore, and I really wanted to take a shower to ease the pain. Like on que, the first couple of raindrops hit the road in front of me.

I sat there, in the pouring rain, for a long time. My bottom was numb from the pain, but I could feel the raindrops stinging my skin where he had hit me. My hair was soaked, sticking to my head, and I struggled with the breathing. I was hunched together, my knees against my chest, arms wrapped around, keeping them there. For the most part, I was leaning my head on the top of my knees as well, but occasionally, I peeked up, looking around and taking in my surroundings for the hundredth time. I felt ashamed every time a car drove past me, every time a person ran by me to get to their destination without getting to wet. I had no clue what time it was, but I knew it was getting late. The sky was turning darker, but it was still light enough to see for another while.

The streets quieted down, leaving more time between the cars driving past. Occasionally, people would park by me, giving me a dirty look, before rushing to get to Starbucks and back out before I could ask them for money. Asking for money to survive wasn't something I was going to to. I wasn't going to beg so I could survive. I wasn'r even sure if I wanted to survive. As the hours went by, the streets got darker. We didn't have streetlights in that part of Jersey, and as the streets gradually became completely deserted, I shifted uncomfortabily, looking around and tryning to see if somebody was approaching. When the lights in the small coffee shop next to me went out, the last employee getting out, locking the door with multiple locks and running to his car down the road, It all went dark. There was some windows in the apartments in front of me with lights on, but the light wasn't nearly bright enough to let me see anything, especially with the rain still pouring. I shot one last glance around, before I leaned my head back against the wall. I then closed my ees and let myself fall into a uneasy, wet sleep.

Notes