The Answer to Everything

My Fateful And Incomprehendible Life

I've always been... Different. All the kids at school used to treat me like I'm some wild animal ready to bite, well... when I was still in a school. I was orphaned at the age of 13, I'm 14, so I guess it's been about a year now. Hhhhhhhhh, I've been surviving on my own. I was always good at that. So I guess not all was a miss in my life. Anyway, now, and even during school, I had no friends. No one to live with or be adopted by. In other words, I'm done for.

My parents, they were, alright. They fed me and gave me water and things like that, but, they never spent time with me. They were always working. When they did have free time, they always just said, "we'll play with you in a minute honey, we're busy." Then that day came, the day of the crash. And then they never got to play with me. And they never would. I will always remember the day, hour, minute, down to the very second that I got the news. It was my birthday, March 13, and we were going to have a party when they got home. I heard a knock at the door, I got excited, thinking that I was about to have lots of fun with my parents, but all I found when I opened the door was a note, it read, "Dear Abby Smith, we are sorry to inform you that your parents are in the hospital and not in good condition, there is a good likelihood of them not surviving. Sorry for your loss, Mr. Johansen." The news made me want to puke. My parents, dead. I couldn't but piece it. I wanted to cry, so I did, long and hard, for the rest of the afternoon.

Since then it has been hard going. I think I have acquired some PDSD. I never atop thinking about that day, yet I want to. I want to forget about it forever, yet I want to cherish the memory of my parents. I always feel hungry. I manage to find food though, I normally will eat leftovers that people throw out. It is not the best thing in the world, but it gets me by. I am as thin as a twig, but fairly muscular, I do a lot of running. I need to run, to get away from people who want to take me away, but I always outrun them. I always need to know what to do next, and yet sometimes I don't. Like now, I need to stop and think.

So now I sit here, on this bench, thinking about what to do. Should I run from this town, never to return, or should I stay, and find something here? I just can't put my finger on what to do. "Oh well..." I said. "I'll think about it in the morning." Then, I fell asleep.