Chapter 1
There is nothing left for me anymore.
I can't live with the pain.
Please let me die and be at peace.
Why have I been cursed?
As I sit here with a bottle of pills, bottle of liquor, the engine running, an old hose attached from the exhaust running into the rear passenger window and the garage door down, this is what runs through my mind. Some may deem it overkill, but I want to succeed this time, today I die.
I have lived a multitude of lifetimes in twenty two years, twenty two years of pain, with only one moment in time that I felt love, had love, was enveloped in pure love.
I was never wanted. My mother constantly reminded me that had it not been for me, her life would have been so much better, she could have found a better man to give her the life she deserved, but here I am.
My father generally ignored me when possible, only making an appearance long enough to pay the child support. One of the extremely rare times he took me, I was sixteen and he raped me repeatedly over the weekend.
When I told my mother, she said it was my own fault, I deserved it.
I made low marks in school, and was constantly berated for being stupid by teachers and fellow students, but by law, I had to be there whether I learned or not.
At seventeen, my mother told me to get the hell out. I had nowhere to go, no way to support myself. I had no skills or a diploma, no one would hire me. I slept in old abandoned buildings, literally starving for weeks. I don't know why my body wouldn't surrender to the inevitable.
One night I was freezing behind a grocery store, waiting for them to close so I could climb in the dumpster, to get out of the freezing wind and drizzle, and see what the bounty was for the day.
I saw a man standing at the end of the alley watching me. He never moved, just watched. When the girl brought the last of the garbage out and dropped it into the dumpster, I heard the lock engage on the back door. I moved quickly, staking my claim on the goodies inside.
In the darkness you just have to trust your senses of touch, smell and taste when it comes to feeding. I sat balled up in the corner with my ear pressed against the icy metal, listening for the man that was probably just as starved as I, but I heard nothing from the outside.
Gingerly picking through various bags of garbage, my fingers found what I was looking for, Oranges. I think the only thing that kept me alive was the vitamins in the oranges. What most people don't understand is that when the peels are bad, that doesn't mean the insides are, same with Grapefruits and Lemons, peel it and eat it, even bananas are sweeter when they turn darker.
A bag of out of date chips or pastries, a flat soda and you have a smorgasbord. My stomach was as full as it was going to get, before the taste and rancid smells kicked in. I dosed in the freezing warmth of the dumpster.
During the night, my light sleep was interrupted by coughing. It was muffled in a dream state at first, then I realized it was coming from just outside the dumpster. I listened closely as it wheezed and strangled. I was afraid to look out, to help, no one had ever helped me.
The longer I listened, the worse it got. I could not bear the thought of someone being in such pain. I slowly lifted the top. It was coming from the back, between the dumpster and the wall. It was sleeting and the wind went straight through to the bone.
I saw a bundle of rags balled up and shaking with every cough. I hoisted myself over the side and landed with the crunch of ice.
"Hey."
"Hey, you okay?"
I see a weathered face peek out from the ball of quivering rags.
"Can you get inside?"
The ball of rags begins to move. He looks at me with just as much fear as I feel.
"It's out of the wind and there's some food in there."
I see his eyes shift from me to the dumpster in the glow of the street lights. I hold out my hand to him. He slowly takes my hand and stands. He shakes from either fear or cold, I smile at him, but fear I am making a serious mistake.
He can't pull himself up and over. I found a couple of milk crates and helped him in, landing with a painful crash. By the time I climb in and lower the lid, I am shivering to the bone.
"You just have to feel around, but I found some oranges. Here." I hold an orange out and feel for his hand.
I find myself scurrying around finding food for him. Growing tired, I curled up in the corner and went back to sleep.
I hear loud voices outside, it must be morning. They won't be throwing anything out right now, so I listen. When the voices stop. I ease the top up, peeking around. No one is around, it's time to move on.
I look back at the man swaddled up in the corner, as he looks back at me.
"We need to go."
He slowly unfurls and stumbles over to me. I hoist him up and over the side and follow behind. I started walking, when I heard the crunch of ice behind me. I turn and he's following me.
"Listen, I can't take care of myself and I sure can't take care of you. You gotta find your own way." I turn and start walking, with crunching behind me.
I feel a tug on my jacket and stop. With a hand deeply covered in rags, he points and starts to shuffle away, glancing back at me. Something tells me he wants me to follow.
A couple of blocks away, we come to a soup kitchen with a herd of people rushing in. When the door opens, the smell hits me full in the face. Bread, more precisely, biscuits! I can't remember the last time I had warm biscuits.
The line begins at the door. The smells are so delicious, it's making me sick to my stomach. There is food in large metal tubs lined up on tables end to end. Scrambled eggs, bacon, sausage, grits and biscuits, homemade biscuits! Coffee, juice and those little jelly packets. Where has this place been all my life?
"Good morning Jeremy! I hope you found somewhere warm last night, it was a real ball freezer." he laughs.
I look up into smiling eyes as the man speaks to the man next to me. The old man, Jeremy, smiles and thumbs back at me.
"Oh yeah? Found you a snuggle buddy, eh?" he smiles at me. I lower my head and take the plate he's holding out to me.
"Well, any friend of Jeremy's is a friend of mine. Hi. Leslie Clark," he holds his hand out to me, but I keep my head down and keep moving.
Jeremy leads us to a table and sits down, digging in immediately. I look around the quickly filling room. God, I never knew there were so many of us. As I start to eat, the man from the line makes his way towards us.
"I didn't mean anything by the snuggle buddy comment. Jeremy and I go back a long way. I was just funning with him. Can we start again? Hi, Leslie Clark," he holds his hand out again.
"Dawn." but I don't shake his hand, opting to eat instead.
"Nice to meet you Dawn. You're new here."
"Yeah," I say around a mouthful of food.
"You found a good friend in old Jeremy here. He's the kindest man I know. Give you the shirt from his back." patting the old man on the shoulder.
The old man starts laughing, well, more like cackling.
"Speaking of, we had a large donation come in the other day. I can take you over and get you fixed up. How about it?"
"Yup." the old man grunts, nodding.
"How about you Dawn? Those shoes look like they've seen better days and I'm sure we can find you a warmer coat."
I just shrugged.
"Good. We'll head out when you've finished eating, I'll be in the kitchen."
I peek up and watch the man walk away. The old man rests a hand over mine and smiles a black smile. I smile weakly and go back to eating.
Jeremy takes our dishes to the window behind the food line. It seems he’s talking to someone, nodding. He comes back to the table and holds out his hand.
I’m afraid to go with him. I have learned to not trust anyone. People look down their noses at me, call me ugly names, they have even spit on me and hit me.
