A Little Piece Of Andley

On The Streets

My first day on the streets has gone terribly. First of all, I turned my back for a minute and whatever things I'd brought had got stolen.

Secondly, I'd tried to find some shelter, but it turned out to be the meeting place for a gang. You can see how that turned out: I'm covered in scratches and bruises, and I can feel my left eye swelling up slightly.

Scuffing my toes along the stone slabs, I try to think of a plan. Unsurprisingly, nothing comes to mind. My stomach grumbles - I'm so hungry.

Someone taps me on the back. I jump.

"You seem lost. Do you want any help?" I spin around and see the most beautiful face I've ever seen. His scruffy brown hair frames his worn face perfectly: his mellow brown eyes and modest chapped lips look genuinely concerned for me.

And yes, he's a boy: the reason I ran away from home is that I'm gay, and everyone used to make fun of me. I thought this would be a better life - free - but it's not turning out that way.

"Erm... Uh... I guess so." I stutter, bewildered.

"You look too young to be out here this late." He gestures to the rapidly disappearing sun. "Are you here alone?"

Whoa. That sounds dodgy.

"Oh, that sounded creepy." He laughs it off. "I meant, if you need a place to stay..."

I smile: this is what I need!

"Actually, I do. Care to show me?"

He laughs again. So cute.

"Okay, follow me!" He skips down for the next block, making me giggle. Then he slows to a walk, pausing periodically to look around. I ask him what he's doing.

"Well, most people around here don't seem to like me."

"I don't see why they could possibly-"

"I'm gay." He interrupts, stopping his walk. Folding his arms, he gives me a look, daring me to say something mean.

"No way!" That sounded too excited. "I mean... Me too." I reply.

"Hmm... Okay." That's it? He continues striding down the alleyways. "I never got to ask you how old you are, anyway."

I tell him, "16." Then ask the same. He's 21, but he doesn't look it. The way he navigates the neighbourhood, though, it's like he's lived here his whole life. I ask him how long he's been homeless.

"Wow, you really sussed that one out quickly, didn't you?" He jokes. "I've been on the streets for just over four years now. My parents... They died. So, I went to live with my grandma. But after ten years, she passed away as well. And I wasn't going to a care home - that's one more thing people can give me shit about. This was my only option."

I raise my eyebrows in respect.

"We're here." He announces grandly.

We turn into the doorway of a seemingly abandoned building, but inside there's at least ten people of varying age and looks, who all grow silent at my appearance.

"Everyone, this is..." He looks at me questioningly: I realise we haven't even introduced ourselves yet.

"I'm Andy." I say, with a (hopefully confident) smile.

"Right. Is it okay if he stays for a while?" He inquires to the group. There's a series of nods and murmurs.

"Excellent." He concludes, clapping his hands together. The friendly conversations are resumed.

I have a feeling I'm going to like it here, a lot.