A Night in the Life of a Homeless Girl

  A Night in the Life of a Homeless Girl.

     The cold of the night would soon arrive. Dressed in a thin sleeveless dress, barefoot and tired, I shivered in a corner. My hair hung down in grimy ringlets. I must have looked like I hadn't showered for days. The city was a buzz of activity being a Saturday night, I knew the odds of running into someone who'd give me a hard time was high, but once again I had no choice, I had to venture out in search of food. I knew some food would be somewhere around and not having eaten for a long time, I had to risk another night with drunken groups of teens and weirdo's that came out of the woodwork on these nights.

***

     Wandering around aimlessly, I searched for a rubbish bin near a food outlet. Maybe I'll be lucky enough to find something to eat tonight.

      Several metres ahead, a group of four or five youths with arms around each other staggered toward me, laughing and swaying. They were swigging bottles of grog from one hand and carrying familiar brown paper bags from a famous hamburger outlet in the other. That's right; that place is just around the corner. I ducked for cover inside the dark recessed entrance porch of a small business. Large redbrick columns sat in four corners to hold up the projected roof and gave my slight build ample cover.

     I hid behind one of the columns next to a well-established garden. The cold brick seeped through my clothing, numbing me to the bone. Shivering, I crouched and waited. As their voices got louder, their words sounded slurred. I held my breath and rested my face on my knees. Don't find me...please don't find me.

     A loud smash exploded in my ears. I threw my arms up to cover my face just as a bottle shattered against the door sending shards of glass in all directions.  I heard hoots and cheering as the teenagers passed by.

     “Howzat! Ha; Gotchya, yerrr out.”

      “Ha! I can beat zat.” Another bottle whizzed past me and smashed—closer this time.

      Yells of triumph and laughter erupted and then began to fade.

     My heart pulsed in my throat, waiting for them to move away. I trembled and stayed hidden until I was sure. I felt a warm trickle of blood running down my arm and saw a fine sliver of glass sticking out. "Shit!" I pulled it out only making it bleed more. I'll have to clean that.

     I moved out of my hiding place and made my way towards the building with the big red 'M'. I collected the oozing blood and licked it off my finger as I went. I ignored any people who passed by and threw insults at me. Two girls in my peripheral vision just ahead started yelling abuse across the road as they went past.

    “Get a job, ya slacker,” yelled one well dressed teenage girl with long fiery red hair.

     “Yeah, us hard-working girls are payin’ for you good-for-nothin’ bums,” the platinum blonde added. Her makeup was caked on her face, and she struggled to walk in her skin-tight skirt and stiletto heels.

     Don’t look...just keep walking. I lowered my head and quickened my pace. On reaching the doorway of the hamburger joint, I covered my wound, cast my eyes down and walked quickly past customers waiting in line to be served.

     I made a bee-line for the ladies room and hoped no-one noticed me. One large, middle-aged lady wearing unflattering jeans and wearing a tee-shirt way too small for her, came out just as I went in. She looked twice and shook her head when she saw me ducking in around her.

     As I looked around, a small smile spread over my dirt-streaked face. Yes! No one’s here. I pulled out a few squares of paper towel from the dispenser and ran them under the tap. After folding them into a thick swab, I covered my cut. Lucky it's not deep enough to need stitches. While the water ran, I drank deeply and then grabbed a few more paper squares. I washed my face, legs and hands with soap. "Yuck!" I really need a shower. The towels were brown with the dirt I'd washed off.

     Under all the crud and filth my golden complexion shone through. With hands-on hips, I scrutinised myself in the mirror, turning left and then right.  You don’t look so bad. You clean up quite nicely, Tamsin Jane. I really wish you were here Mum and Dad, your little girl is growing up.  

     Alerted to voices outside the bathroom door, I dove into the nearest toilet stall, shutting the door. I sat on the toilet and waited. The two girls in adjacent cubicles talked non-stop to each other like chattering chimps. They flushed at the same time and I heard the clunk...clunk of their heels as they came out. Washing their hands, they hardly took a breath between blabbering.

     Hurry up and leave, will you? I remained quiet until I heard the door shut behind them.  

     When I was sure no one was there, I crept out of the toilet, grabbed a few more paper towels, and then sped out of the bathroom and headed straight toward the exit door. Several kids jostled past, knocking me aside. One rude person elbowed me roughly as they shoved their way through. I rubbed my ribs and kept going. I walked around the side where I knew the dumpster for this place disposed of the out-of-date food.

     A frosty wind picked up. Bits of rubbish and branches of dead plants kicked up around my feet. I wrapped my arms around my chest in an effort to shelter myself from the stinging chill.

     Sneaking into the narrow alley, which had a ‘No Entry’ sign, I hesitated. Once I was sure no one was coming out the back of the building, I grabbed a wooden crate resting against a wall and put it near the dumpster. Standing on it I  looked inside.  Thank goodness the lid’s propped open. In the dim light, I could see some bread rolls that had been thrown out and I grinned at the sight. As I was about to reach in, I heard men’s voices coming from inside the building.

     I stumbled off the box, and it toppled over with a bang. A sharp pain shot up through my foot.  I pushed my way into a small space behind the dumpster. There was a constant buzz of blowflies around my head and my eyes stung with the dust I’d stirred up dashing behind there so quickly.

     “Did you hear that?” a man’s voice said.

     “Yeah, it’s probably nothing. Stray cats and dogs come around here all the time for scraps.” The other voice sounded deeper—older.

     Scavenging around for scraps, yep that’s me, just like a dog or a cat. Sometimes I wish I had died in that car with you, Mum and Dad. Then I wouldn’t have been put through all that crap with those horrible people; I wouldn’t be scavenging for food and I’d be at high school with friends. Tears trickled down my cheeks.

     I wrapped my arms around my calves staying as motionless as a corpse. Cobwebs swayed close to my face. Some had spiders scuttling back and forth, repairing or building their webs. The smell of rotting meat and fermenting vegetables assaulted my nostrils. Slater bugs and cockroaches scampered away at my sudden invasion of their territory. I feel like a wild animal taking refuge from some predator.

     The young voice continued. “This place wastes so much food. Why don’t they give it away to shelters and places like the Salvos or something? What a waste.”

     Will you guys just hurry up this stink is really getting to me. 

     The older voice answered. “With all the health regulations and government red tape, we’re not allowed to. I agree with you, but our hands are tied.”

     “That just sucks! Look at all this food we chuck, just because they’ve reached their ‘best-before’ date. It’s just not right.” 

     Nice thought, you two, but then people like me would miss out, so even though it does suck I’m grateful for the chance to eat. As they walked back toward the door, the younger voice continued complaining about the injustice of food wastage.

     Peeping out, I checked to confirm they’d gone and squeezed out from behind the dumpster. I brushed down the dust that had settled on my clothes and shuddered as I felt something crawling up my leg. I stamped my feet and flicked off a couple of roaches that had found their way under my dress.

     I re-positioned the crate and climbed back up. The white rubbish bag lay within my reach. I opened it. Whole buns and burnt hamburgers the two workers had thrown away were nestled inside. My mouth watered at the thought of some meat between my teeth. Grabbing a few rolls and the meat, I filled a brown bag that had been disposed of with the paper towel I’d collected and added the food. I scored big tonight. I’m having a feast fit for a...well for me anyway.

     On reaching the main street I looked both ways and decided to head out of town to find a quiet place to eat. I held onto my bounty tightly and walked at a fast pace toward some familiar parklands in which I’d spent many nights. I’m glad people are too wrapped up in their own lives to notice me. I don’t want to draw any attention.

     Turning off the busy street, I limped down a narrow avenue framed with beautiful jacaranda trees that formed a violet archway all the way along the street. I love this peaceful place, particularly now when the purple flowers are in bloom.

     Beautiful cottages stood on one side that were built in the thirties and forties right on the road front with little space between them. Most of these houses have been turned into doctor’s rooms or specialist clinics, such a shame, they are so unique. At least a few are still inhabited by older couples or young newly-weds looking to renovate. On the opposite side was the parklands,  That's where I headed.

     I walked past one cottage made of basket-range stone. I recognised it because my grandparent's place was made of the same material. I remember tracing my finger over the tan and cream markings and picking out shapes in the wavy patterns. I wish I’d known you longer, Nan and Pop. I was so little when you died. I didn’t have enough time with you.

     I always remembered Nan’s floral perfume or shampoo. Anything that had that same smell triggered memories of Nan rocking or patting me to sleep. As soon as Pop died, Nan deteriorated. Mum told me she’d said she didn’t want to live without him and had taken herself off all medications—dying a few weeks later.

     Laughing and giggling coming from a house a few doors down, interrupted my reminiscing. Someone’s having a party. I saw coloured fairy lights flashing down the side of a house where people had set up deck chairs. Probably a house warming or something.

     I continued straight past the noisy home and kept walking. I’d walked a couple of metres when I heard a shout.

     “Hey, Cutie, come join the party, plenty of room for more.”

     I started walking again and didn’t look back until I felt a large hand on my right shoulder. It spun me around and stopped me in my tracks. I looked up and came face-to-face with a tall, lanky man, probably in his thirties. He had dark, collar-length hair and had obviously been drinking but didn’t appear to be too drunk. He wore board shorts and a tee-shirt, with no shoes. My heart raced and butterflies formed in my stomach as I moved away from his hand. I have to get out of here.

     “Come on, we won’t bite. You look like you could do with a good meal.”

      “Thanks, but I have some food.” I held up the paper bag I’d been clutching.

      “How about a drink then?”  He took a step closer and I stepped back.

      “I...er, really have to get home, my mum’s expecting me to bring this food home and I’m already late.”

     “I think you’re ly-ing.” His pitch went up and down in a mocking tone. “Come on, you don’t look like you’ve got a home. Stay with us tonight, we’ll look after you. My name’s Kyle, what’s yours?”

     “Er...Julie.” I’m not giving you my real name. “Thanks again but I should really get going.” I turned to walk away.

     “But...Julie, you’re such pretty thing. It would liven up my party a lot.” He moved lightning fast and wrapped his arm around my bare shoulder and began leading me back to the party.  I tensed the muscles in my legs and leaned back, resisting him moving me forward. My ankle throbbed. “I’m sure you won’t regret it, we’ll have heaps of fun.” Leaning over, he kissed my shoulder that he’d wedged in his armpit and ran his fingers down my arm.

    Whiskey breath. Turning outward, I pulled away.  I need to do something fast. I stamped my uninjured heel as hard as I could on the top of his foot. “I said, no!”

     He let go with a yelp and I lumbered away as fast as I could. The dull ache in my ankle pounded but I didn't stop. Looking back only once, I saw him hopping around holding his foot with both hands. I heard a girl’s voice screaming at him.

     “Kyle, get back here! Put that girl down, you don’t know where she’s been.”

      Fortunately, he didn’t pursue me, but I could hear him screaming abuse as I ran. That was close. Whiskey breath...reminds me of...him. I’m never going back to my foster parents; I’d rather die out here.

     I kept going until I ran out of breath and then slowed to a walk.  I passed another house that had a newspaper sitting on the driveway. Glancing around, I bent down, grabbed the paper and ran, despite the dull throb in my ankle. I could see my special place in the parklands next to a small duck pond and I smiled. My favourite bench was waiting for me.

     I got comfortable and pulled out the roll pieces and one of the charred burgers. Adding the meat between the buns, I ate greedily. I broke off small pieces of the roll and threw them in the pond for the ducks. “You guys are hungry tonight too, I see. Here, have some, I don’t mind sharing.” 

     After eating every skerrick of the food, I pulled out the newspaper from its protective plastic. I lined the inside carefully with some of the paper towels and transferred the extra food into the plastic bag. Waste not, want not. It’ll keep better in here.

     I opened the newspaper and read for a while, checking the obituaries, the weddings and the headlines. Flicking through, I saw plenty of home invasions, hold-ups and hype about celebrities. Why isn’t there ever any good news? Always the same old crap.

     I checked my cut. After all the running, the pad had fallen off and it had started bleeding again. I pulled out one of the paper towels and dipped it in the pond. Ripping a long strip of newspaper, I tied it roughly over the pad of paper and around my arm. It’ll stay on through the night, at least.

     I pulled the newspaper apart and lay down sideways on the bench. Pulling the sheets of newspaper over me, I felt warmer than I had all day. I hugged the plastic bag to my chest and let out a large sigh. Well, today was a good day. Tomorrow could be even better.