Vagabond

I scraped my hand mildly across the dirty cement floor and nestled my head on my elbows. I coiled up my body, feeling the cold winter breeze blow through the open door. I thought about everything that had brought me here. Everything I have done. Everything they have done. I felt an overwhelming urge inside to scream. Most nights I lay here and weep silently, but tonight I just feel different.

I often stew over my past and the present. Constantly reminding myself of how much my life has changed and what has brought me to where I am now. I suppose I wouldn’t have already be an addict at 15 if I didn’t make friends with the wrong people and left school. My dad was to blame for that. He hurt my mother every night of my life until the day I said I was moving out with my mate Jeremy. I don’t know what has happened to them since. The last time I saw them, was when they showed up at my sister’s boyfriends place after she had her baby at 14 years old.

Everyday and every night I find it hard to bring myself out of feeling this loneliness. My life is a shattered mess. I hate everything about myself and I can never seem to tell anyone. That is because no one will ever listen, understand or even care.

I work hard for that tiny wage, I have come to live on. Taking whatever offers of food I can get. Stealing small traces of food from work. I shower at the pool at night with cold water. I only use my money to feed my addiction. Cocaine doesn’t come cheap.

These are just the constant thoughts I have of depression and anxiety. The thoughts that have brought me to being a 16 year old boy, lying on a public bathroom floor with nothing to live for.

I hate my life. I hate my family. I hate everything that has brought me here. I hate humanity. There really is nothing left.

A strange, overwhelming feeling flew over me and I could feel my heart exhilarate. Thoughts were rushing quickly through my head and I could feel myself losing reality. I was feeling emotions I couldn’t understand. Like I wanted to hurt myself. Like I wanted a different kind of change. I twisted my head around my shoulder and looked to the ground. Almost hidden behind the dirt and grease was a small blue and white sticker. I knew it was one of those help lines that were free to call.

I had a sudden urge to pick out my phone and call it. As soon as I heard a voice on the other end, it sent a shiver down my spine. I spoke slowly and I was breathing heavily into the phone. It was a woman on the other end. She had a sweet kind of voice and sounded young.

I suddenly felt like I was relinquishing the walls to my demons deep, deep down inside. I was eventually telling this woman my life story in a blur. My voice was filled with the shattering sound of my own despair and I was crying very hard. It was the most amazing feeling within itself that the woman was actually listening to me.

The moment I hung up that phone I swear something changed in me. It was like I had a new reality, something that I hadn’t felt before, belonging.