From Home to Homeless with a Family

Date: 7/13/2017

By ghostkitten_

I ran away from home cuz it was a weird Series of Unfortunate Events type thing. My brother, baby sister and I were being fostered by an odd couple and their kid. They had these pills that made you see flashes of images and basically they were very insestual and, long story short, everyone kept trying to drug me to convince me to sleep with them, and wanted my brother and I to sleep with one another. Not to watch, but just for it to happen. So I took my laptop and a blanket, stuffed them in my backpack, and ran away. I found a little caged/fenced in area, just bigger than the spread of my blanket, and set up camp. My feet at the door, I pondered what to do with my computer. I realized, as much as I didn't want to, I was going to have to hold it. There was a man sleeping in the large fenced in area next to me, and I especially didn't want him stealing it. I clutched my computer in my hands, and facing the right, the other fenced area, I fell asleep. I opened my eyes to daylight, and heard chatter and laughter. Hiding my computer in the backpack I'd used as a pillow, I peeked over to see a small group of people my age hanging out. One of them came over and invited me over. He was very nice. The group consisted of 3 boys, including Naten, one girl (possibly Kia?), and another whose gender kept going back and forth. I don't remember what we talked about, but it was easy and enjoyable to talk to them. They included me seamlessly, and found ways to keep bringing me into the conversation; sometimes as a tiebreaker. We hung out all day, until the daylight brightened and dimmed to dusk. The boy who'd first invited me over turned to me. "We're planning on leaving in the morning. You're welcome to come with us," he said invitingly, almost hopeful. "Where are you going?" I asked after a small pause. "More of a community area, it'll be safer." I knew where he meant. "Hastings?" My heart started to sink. "Yeah, sort of." "I don't want to go there. I'll get killed!" "You won't get killed," he said, bemused, a small smirk dancing on his lips. "And you'll be with us. We can protect you." I looked around at the group. I was so unsure. This really wasn't my scene; hanging out with the homeless? Going to Hastings? What would they think if they found out I had a home I could go back to? He was waiting for an answer, looking at me with earnest eyes. "I'll think about it," I said, finally. I slept in their camp that night, and in the morning I packed up with them and joined them on their treck to a building on the inbetween. Inside was a long line leading up to a chalkboard easel, a box, a woman and a photographer. On the easel, people were writing what, in their mind, it meant to be homeless. The photographer would snap a shot of them in front of their words, and then the woman would hand them something from the box. The box was filled with random, useful non-essentials, like backpacks and necklaces. When I got to the front of the line, the rest of my group had already gone through. I felt uncomfortable, out of place; my words had no right, here. The woman asked me what it meant to be homeless. I said something deep and profound, and perfectly fitting to my situation; according to dream logic. 'Finding a home in a community of people without,' was the essence. I picked up a piece of pink chalk, palmed it, and pretended to write my statement on the board. The word "all" came out in pink chalk, but the rest was barely dusted away, or completely invisible altogether. My unseen writing took up the bulk of the board, and I was glad not to have actually written it. I turned around to face the woman. She was kind, but clearly puzzled as to why I had not actually written anything. "I really wanted to capture that, but it's.. cute." she said encouragingly. She handed me a pink mirror and I headed towards the doorway. One last hesitation, and I exited onto Hastings. I saw them almost immediately. Naten beamed, and everyone smiled. The boy said, "I saved a spot for my girlfriend. Well, not.." he trailed off. It was a seat kind of behind the group- in a perfectly hidden sense, not of exclusion. I felt soft love. He pulled out his new possession; a German-English electronic dictionary. Knowing what it was, I had a hoot trying explaining that, no, it was NOT French! He pointed at a few words, and tried to pronounce them. I gave the correct pronunciation, the French word (if I knew it), and the English word (if I knew it.) We laughed as we played. The group conversation drew us back in, and as he participated, I zoned out, realizing, thanks to my nose, how much I wanted a joint. I looked in my wallet, hiding it inside my bag. I had 2 20s. I could buy weed, smoke these guys out. Or I could go home, grab my weed, and bring it back here.. but then they would know. I closed up my bag and looked at everyone. I felt so safe here; these people, in less than 24 hours, had accepted me into their family. I was one of them, now. They all had my back, but could I trust any of them? He handed me a cigarette. I smoked half of it, then pushed in the filter and stared at the world inside.