Harper
Harper
1
The cold wind frisked across his face as he stared at the sorrowful society. Every inch of Oscar looked of disaster, each inch impoverished. His fist clenched upon his flesh as he bit his lips, and strong sensations overwhelmed him as he took in the size of the city. So large yet so destitute, so grand yet so minimal. The city itself can be described as being alike to Chicago, in size and infrastructure, though the crumbling state of each city mirrored one another. The state of the city reflected upon himself, upon the mental state he was currently in. The building he was standing upon looked as if it were about to crumble, but so did everything else. The years’ worth of pain still sticks with the people of Oscar, even after more suffering piled upon them. Even when the mourning of children and men started growing; even when there was no one to help out. None of the rich ever acknowledged that there was suffering among other humans, even after the six long years of the Great Depression, no one used to it. Everything previously despised was quite accepted among those in Oscar. Thieving wasn’t abnormal, quite mandatory for those poor actually. Death was as frequent as the wind, but the mourning didn’t slow down any bit. Everyone was damaged during the Depression. Everyone lost family, possessions, and a bit of themselves. Some lost morals and some lost limbs - some lost their sanity. Twas when the life of Harper Collington tilted. He was 14 when the Depression began, and 20 when his father died. The 6 years of the Depression affected him majorly, living him a shell of who he was before it happened. His eyes now a darker brown than before, his hair coal-black, and his body weak and slim with his height were quite immense. His father worked in one of the mines in the eastern part of Oscar, or at least he did before the mine collapsed. This left Harper penniless with no income, young, and an ill mother to support. This was all too much. They were running out of leftover scraps to eat, his mother’s illness was getting worse, he was an emotional mess, and they needed money!
“Get away from me!” A tint of sound echoed into the ears of Harper as he was drowned within his own thoughts. He looked downwards at the streets to an ambushed woman. She was screaming frantically upon the rocky floor, fallen from the weight of her jewelry and deliriously expensive clothing. As much as he wanted to help, she was too far for him to defend or do anything about. His heart was racing, his fingers were aching, his forehead was sweating as he watched the woman. He wanted to do something but they were too far for him to do anything about, and on the contrary, what if they went for him? All he could do was watch as a woman was surrounded by a gang of thieves, all of which covering themselves in masks poorly made, but still masks nevertheless. The woman was of rich, that was sure, which was why she was the main and only target for the thieves. Local gangs had never been as prosperous, but this was a special occasion that a rich person would actually be outside during the nighttime, the main time for the thieves. As he watched the woman get mugged and assaulted, he clenched his fists even tighter. He was a coward, and there was no other way to put it. He couldn’t fend for himself as a child, for his father was always there for him, his father was there for his mother, but he’s gone. With his mother also sick, he had to fend for himself. He kept watching the woman as she was slowly mugged, as she was slowly assaulted before he couldn’t stop himself. He looked at the gang of thieves before glancing at the pile of rocks on the roof next to him. Rushing over to it, he piled it onto his arms before aiming directly at one’s head. This specific one had an object in his hand, a shimmering object that reflected the moon’s light. Harper wasn’t sure that it was a knife, but it was best to take him out before blood might be spilled. Holding back his arm as far as possible, aiming straight for the head of the thief with a knife, he fired it. At astonishing speeds, the roaring rock flew straight onto the side of the thief’s head with so much force that it ricocheted off of his head and flew at another’s stomach. Clearly shocked that one of them had been knocked out by a mysterious rock-thrower, they turned toward Harper’s direction.
“Holy-!” He attempted to mumble before dropping all of the rocks, which all tumbled down the building. On the bottom, all of the thieves’ attentions were diverted, with all of them running after him. He would have to sleep on a roof tonight so they couldn’t come and get him. His mind was discombobulated, and he simply didn’t know which directions to run. His memory of the path that he used to get up here was no longer here, with his sense of sight blurred by the speed he was running at. Why did I do this? Why was I so dumb to try to save a random person! His thoughts raced through him as he personally raced the danger that was actually storming him. It was only slightly, but one thought stuck out to him. Why was I so dumb to try to save a random person! The moment did not last for a particularly long time before his attention was hurried away from it. In front of him was a wall and directly next to him were stairs leading up to the buildings. The thieves were getting closer, mirroring how he was getting closer to the wall. If he stopped to run back, they would definitely catch up to him, but he couldn’t keep on running! But his thinking had to halt for there was no more time! Without hesitation, his foot contacted the wall, but he didn’t fall. The moment when by fast, but he couldn’t believe it. His body bent upwards as he looked upwards, the wind moving swiftly around him before jumping onto the roof of the building belonging to the wall. Only glancing to look back, he saw the thieves struggle to climb up the wall, before giving up and running away. Dawn was still a bit away, and he would like to get home before it hits. He hoped that the woman had gotten away, but also thought about his mother. Her fever was now severe, and he had only gone out to look for scraps to eat. The trip home was tiring and unseasonably cold, even if it was Winter. He was wearing the same coat for about 6 years; this was his father’s coat. It was quite warm, but it had started to wear off quite a while ago. By this point, its colors are bare and its quality is thin. His boots were also from his father, but its condition was much worse. Running away from bandits was one of his hobbies you can say, and his speed is quite remarkable. But through his freezing travel, he came across several pieces of scraps. First was a ballpoint pen, another a sheet of paper, and finally, it was a loaf of bread. Although dirty, the loaf of bread was still food. As he finally arrived at his destination, he sighed at the sight of his home. It was the color of brown, simply because it was made from the wood of burnt trees. Harper remembered a more beautiful home before the Depression, but this was what they could afford after the depression. They sold their houses to pay for the expenses, which caused it to be very difficult for them to live normally. The schools were absent for a few weeks before officially announcing that they would be closing. Which meant that no education was provided to Harper for the past 6 years.
“Mother! I’m home!” His heart was beating loudly as he approached the door to the house. But to his dismay, no response came from his mother - just a long silence. “Mother?” His heart was rumbling, he was sweating ludicrously, and his palms ached as he opened the door to the home. With one hand on the handle, he attempted to pocket the bread next to the loot he had gathered into his one pocket. Not ready for the unexpected, he dropped the bread onto the floor. The hard bread broke apart and scattered across the room as he stared at the sight. On the floor was his mother, whimpering as she tried to move. “Mother!” A deep and powerful sensation filled him as he embraced his mother, pulling her up-straight and hugging her. “What happened! I’m so sorry that I wasn’t here, please! Answer me, mother!” Tears overwhelmed him as his eyes were full of it, his mother wasn’t moving, her breathing silent, and her body cold. “Please, Mother! You’re the only person I have left!” He grasped her cold body, clenching onto her. He couldn’t accept her death, not after Father was also gone! As his tears filled his eyes, he couldn’t do it anymore. A loud roar exited from him, screaming from his lungs and cursing at the terrible misfortunes in his life. Why was he to live like this? Why was life so unfair? Why did Mother and Father have to go so soon?
With his eyes drowning in tears, he stayed with her body. However cold or long, he would stay there. He simply couldn’t accept the death of her - the death of the last person that he loved, of the last person that loved him. The winds blew into the house as an hour passed, his grip on her still solid, his eyes still drowning. After another hour had passed, his legs began feeling numb as he loosened his grip. The mourning of his mother’s death had stopped. His eyes’ tears had dried, leaving his face cool and moist. His hold on his mother was still the same as before, but he accepted the truth. Mother and Father were gone. Her cold body was still to give off a bad odor as stood up. He laid her onto the ground near their makeshift bed, and as he stared around it one last time, he gave a heavy sigh. There was not much in there, just one small pile of clothes and a makeshift box with simple things like buttons and leaves inside it. The ground was of stone but very filthy. He carried her dead body up one last time before setting it onto the bed. The bed was made of stuffed leaves or trash they found all around the city, packed into a plastic bag. There was also a rag that we’ve found, which we would lay on the bed and put over ourselves when we were cold. It used to be us taking turns, but because she was sick, Mother was the person on the bed at all times. But this was it. He had officially lost everything. As he covered her with the rag, tears no longer ran down his face. For hours he had been crying, but no longer. It was over. She was gone. Father was gone, and Mother was gone. He was the only one left in the family, and he would have to fend for himself completely. The more he thought about it, the more he realized one fact. This had been the fact for many years already, he been fending for himself, he had been protecting himself, he had been living by himself. He was more than he thought he was, he was better than he thought he was. Taking one last glance around the room and at the corpse of his mother, he finally turned his back on it all. Opening the door to the outside, he had a new plan. He had a new vision for himself. He was going to be a new man, a new person. Not only was he living for himself, fending for himself, but he’ll do it better. He’ll get out of the impoverished, he will be the man his father was. He will be greater.
