Homeless [Scomiche]

Chapter 1

Mitch's POV

I picked up my dirty sheet I had been sitting on and began to walk down the dark, lonely road. My stomach hurts from constant hunger, my head hurts from the noisy sounds of the LA streets, every visible part of my body and my clothes were completely filthy with a months worth of dirt. I don't even know why I sit here in this spot if I know no one will even think about helping me. I've been without a house for months, and I have no one to turn to. All I can do is rely on those helpful little old ladies that slip me a few dollars every once in a while. A few weeks ago, I saved up that 2 weeks worth of money to get me a bottle of water and a bag of chips. I still have those chips, even though they are many weeks old and very stale at least its something. I sometimes treat myself to one or two, and save the rest. Same with the water, except I can refill it anytime in the local water fountain in the park. That's my life, I don't expect it to get any better.

I came to my little 'home' and set down my sheet, and by home, I mean my refrigerator box I had scavenged up a few months ago and some spare blankets along with a bag full of some of my belongings and a few dollars I had saved up. I sat down and grabbed my bag, putting 1 or 2 dollars I had gotten today. I took out my bag of chips and began to snack. After 4 or 5 chips, I put the chips back in the bag and hid the bag under the blankets, where it always stayed. 

I heard a voice further down the alley, so I stood up. I saw 3 guys walking down the alley, obviously drunk. I sat back down deep in my box, knowing how much trouble drunk people can be. As they got closer, the stupid streetlight a few feet from me flashed on, illuminating the whole alley and giving me away. I sighed silently as they came up to me.

"Hey! What you doin here?" One of them asked. His shoulders were broad and he had black short hair. I could smell the alcohol on his breath as he talked. It was so strong, it made me cough.

"Why are you here?" I asked bluntly. The guy beside him, a skinny man with red hair and freckles, laughed loudly and rolled his eyes. I've dealt with many drunk people coming down this alley, seeing as theres a bar on the other side of the alley a few blocks down, but none of them actually stopped to talk to me for more then a few seconds, and none EVER asked me why I was here. It's starting to make me uncomfortable. The other guy, a brunette man with a small mustache and beard, spoke up.

"We do what we want punk! Now get lost." He said roughly. His voice made me shiver for some reason.

"This is my home! Just go away!" I said, my high pitched voice not making me sound very intimidating.

"What are you gonna do little boy? Throw your blanket at us?!" The black haired one said, the others joining him in laughter. I began to get angry.

"I'm 22 years old! I want you guys to leave!" I yelled, making the red haired one jump slightly but he tried to hide the fact that my sudden yelling scared him.

"What if we don't!" The brunette said.

"Go away!" I said, shoving the black haired one. He didn't even move when I pushed him, considering he's twice my size. He only smirked.

"Oh, you will pay for that, boy!" He said, punching me square in the face. The other two joined in his punching and kicking until everything went black and I was unconscious.

Scott's POV

I walked down the sidewalk holding the groceries I had just bought. I needed some last minute food for the fridge, I was starving. I haven't eaten anything since lunch and it's almost 11:45pm. I looked casually to my right, down an alleyway. I saw something on the ground. I looked like a person. I made my way over to it and saw that it was a small brunette man, hardly conscious.

I ran over to him and set my groceries down beside this large box that laid there. I turned him over onto his back and gasped. He had a black eye and bruises all over his arms. He was filthy. The realization then came to me suddenly that he was homeless, and this box beside my stuff I set down was probably the only home he had.

"Hey, mister? Are you ok?" I softly, crouching down, shaking him and hoping he would wake up. He twitched and suddenly came too. He opened his eyes and looked at me for a second before flinching away, shaking and scared, a slight whimper escaping his lips.

"Don't hurt me.....please..." He whispered, shaking. I sighed as I examined his wounds and felt heartbroken.

"It's ok. I'm not going to hurt you. What's your name?" I asked caringly. He looked back up at me, a little bit of fear leaving his eyes but still cautious.

"My name is Mitch..." He whispered. Mitch... I liked that name. Never heard it before.

"My name is Scott. Don't worry, you're going to be ok Mitch. C'mon, get up. I'll take care of your wounds and you can stay with me for a while so you can figure everything out." I said, helping him up.

"Wait... Let me get my stuff." He said quietly. He limped over to his box, one arm over my shoulder, and bent down, moved some of the blankets around and grabbed a small bag he had. It was very small, and I have no idea what kind of stuff he had in there, but it wasn't much.

"Here, let me get that." I said as I grabbed the bag out of his hand and put it on my other shoulder. I grabbed my groceries and we walked down the street on the way to my house, me supporting Mitch the entire time. I hope I made the right choice taking him in...