On The Streets

Subject: On The Streets Wed Dec 24, 2008 6:29 pm

This is a serious story. A few errors. But oh well.

On The Streets

Sorry if my writing’s a bit scrawly.This is being written on a napkin. If you are reading, you’re either a fellow homeless person, stealing things from my bag. Or a random person, finding this on the floor, thinking it is in your rights to read this.

Imagine this:

You have been left well enough alone in your nice and cozy home, not a car in the world, while you read your daily Bible passage.

Your family is a strict Christian family, against disabled, homosexuals, and transsexuals. You do not think that is wrong.

Until your family realizes something, on the 3^rd of December 2007, you are homosexual. Yes, will they let you off, make it a big cover-up?

No...

This is my story.

My story on life on the streets.

The beginning is not so nice. But I will be telling it as if you are me.

This is me.

Timothy Jonesett Tomerson.

This is my story.

It all began with me getting off the underground train. Yes, I have already been kicked out, my family only just found out three hours ago.

Dad packs me a sandwich, a shirt, trousers, one pair of clean underwear... A bottle of water, and that’s it.

His last, comforting, words to me are:

“You’re a sinner. Sinners aren’t aloud in my house. May God strike you down, and forgive me for ever giving life to a son of Adam like you.”

And that was it. Their glares reflected off of the glass of the window on the train, haunting me to this very day.

Reality seems too far away for me to grasp. Just a sick feeling lies within me, internally. I feel like I’m going to faint. Until a kind old lady sees me and my bags. She gives me kind words and a packet of Skittles, before going to the next carriage.

I say nothing. There is nothing to say.

I decide to catch a few naps up, before getting off at Waterloo Baker Line.

I am awakened by the ticket man, asking me where my ticket is. I am about to get up and run, but the kind old lady returns, telling the man, whose face is inches from mine, that I am with her.

The ticket man does not look convinced, but he carries on checking other tickets, glancing back once to glare at me.

I have arrived.

Waterloo Baker Line.

Getting off the train, into the packed station. I smell an array of different perfumes. All rich in scent and probably also in price.

Men in suits, a permanent frown on their brow, as they bustle about, here, there, and everywhere.

They do not care how many people they hit with their important looking brief-cases. They just go about their buisness as if the station is empty.

I cannot.

The old lady hurries past me, as if she does not remember who I am.

I go to the barriers, forgetting I did not receive another ticket. I run off the other way, only to be bombarded by the rush hour, back to the barriers. I decide I have to, and I vault over one of the barriers. No one saw. Luckily, they were all too caught up in their own lives.

I run and I run, until I can’t anymore.

By Katherine Mills 9C

Subject: Re: On The Streets Sat Jan 10, 2009 9:42 pm

That's cool. Very Happy