NobodyA Story by Hannah SunderThis is the story of a girl. A girl who believes she is all alone in a world full of people. But, when things look grim for her, hope shines in the morning.I had Always been Nobody. Ever since I could remember, I was always on my own. What, you ask me if I had a home and family? Never. I've always been living in the streets. By myself.
I scrounged out of garbage cans and dumpsters to find food and whatnot. You'd be amazed by what people throw away as “garbage”. Half eaten hotdogs, apples with a few bad spots, even a few morsels of cake here and there. That's how I found clothes too. I slept in alleys, under bridges, and on the occasional park bench. Like a homeless person, I guess you could say. But it was different. It was easier for me. I never got shooed away by policemen. I suppose that's because no one can see me. I tried getting the Somebodies' attention when I was younger, but no one would respond. At the most, they would glance in my direction and shoo me--or something-- away like an annoying fly. I stopped trying to get them to notice me after a while. I never went to school, of course. Sometimes I would go and watch the children stream out of the school building as the final bell rang. I loved the look of that building. It's tall walls caught the morning light and glowed with age and wisdom. It was so big, so regal. I taught myself how to read and write as best as I could on my own. Sometimes the school library would throw out old ratty textbooks and encyclopedias. I read them all--or, at least, as many as I could. They filled the crater of loneliness inside me. But only for a while. I found my daily life increasingly more depressing. there was no one to talk to. Sometimes I felt like screaming in frustration. And sadness. Why can't I get the Somebodies' attention? Why won't they listen to me? I went through a time when I felt like giving up. I felt I should just end my life. What's the point of living? Of laughing and learning, if you have no one to share the laughter or wisdom with? In all the years I had lived, I had never once come across someone like me.
I stopped eating. I wandered aimlessly through the streets. On one particular morning, I found myself in a small park on the outskirts of the city. It was early in the morning. I hadn't slept in--or even slept at all-- for quite some time. The early morning sun bathed the grass in a golden hue. The park swings swayed gently in the breeze, their rusty hinges squeaking softly. A jasmine vine grew on the trunk of a maple tree, its yellow blossoms giving off a sweet scent. It was a beautiful morning. But I couldn't enjoy it. I was staring at the ground, walking, walking on and on. I was so tired. So lost. I watched my dirty shoes move forward. Right, left, right, left. I heard something, then. The scuffling of feet, a dry cough from a young throat. Probably just some kid coming to loiter at the park, I told myself. I kept walking. The footsteps came closer toward me. They sounded like the footsteps of someone without hope. The footsteps shuffled ever closer. I shrugged inwardly. The Somebody would just swerve away from me at the last second. They always do. But then, something happened that had never happened before. The Somebody caught his shoulder on mine and we both stumbled forward. “Watch it!” it yelled. “Stupid Somebodies...” I gasped. “What..” I stopped turned around slowly.
It was a boy. He had stopped too, rooted to the ground. The sunlight illuminated his back, turning his gray shirt to gold. His dark hair ruffled gently in the breeze. Slowly, he turned to face me, a look of incredulous surprise on his freckled face. After a long moment, I whispered the question we had both been thinking. “Are you Nobody too?”
© 2012 Hannah SunderAuthor's Note
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StatsAuthorHannah SunderLongview, TXAboutI'm fifteen. I love to draw and write stories, short or long, as well as writing poems in my spare time. I am allergic to nothing and I love animals with a passion. Seriously. I read animal encycloped.. more.. |