The cold wind whipped throughout the icy December morning in New York City. Everyone stuffed their glove-covered hands in their coats as they shuffled up and down the street of the sleepless city. They were either on the phone with their spouses, asking about what was for breakfast or talking to their companion that was beside them. There was a man across the street playing his guitar for entertainment, crumpled dollar bills dropping into his top hat. In the midst of it all, was eighteen-year-old Harry Styles, sitting on the sidewalk, sore back against the rugged and uncomfortable brick wall as his teeth chattered for their dear life.
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His clothes were tattered and torn, the only thing giving him a little source of warmth was a ratty, old coat that he found by the dumpster last week, being chewed on by a couple pit bulls. Luckily the dogs didn't attack him, they just ran off. Maybe it was because he smelled pungent. Who knows. It could be a factor considering he hadn't showered in awhile.
The homeless teen rubbed his dry and cracked hands together in order to receive some sort of warmth, little puffs of air escaping his chapped lips and coming out in wisps of white because of the freezing temperature. It was roughly twenty degrees.
Harry watched as people walked to their destinations. He wondered where they were going. Wondered if they were headed to the store or out to eat for a nice breakfast. Maybe work, or school, or home.
Home.
A simple four letter word that could mean so much to people. Some take it for granite though, no respect for their home or the people who live inside it. Harry would do anything to have a home.
He distinctly remembered this teenage girl walking down the street about two weeks ago on her iPhone 6 plus, arguing with her parents. She was screaming at them, calling them stupid and jerks. She told them she wasn't coming home tonight and that she was gonna stay at a friend's house because she couldn't stand to be near her dumbass parents. Her words, not Harry's.
Harry couldn't believe the horrible things escaping that girl's lips. To talk to her parents like that was just completely out of line. He hoped that bratty girl got in trouble when she got home.
But anyway that's what Harry did. He watched people, daydreaming about their lives and what he thought they'd be like. His emerald eyes were on everyone else, but no one's ever took a glance at him. Have you ever watched a movie and the person was just sitting there and everything else around them was moving at the speed of light? Harry felt that all the time. Everyone was going on with their lives while Harry was stuck in his.
The only thing he had going for him was the $3.67 he had in the small tin can sitting next to him. The only thing that had him wake up every shitty day, hoping that more would be in there.
