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Rated: 13+ · Short Story · Friendship · #1158977
About a teenage homeless girl.. I did this for my Creative Writing class.
Cold. Bitter freezing cold. That was how it was for Riley Taylor, late at night in the streets of New York City. What was she- a 15 year old girl doing out in the cold? You might wonder. She didn't want to be out there, truth be told. It was not her choice.

'Christmas Eve, what a lovely freaking night.' Riley thought, '-lovely only for some.' finished her bitter mind. With her small feet crunching in the snow, Riley made her way down the avenue, hugging her arms to her chest for more warmth as she did so. Unfortunately for her, her tiny body barely contained heat, and at 25 degrees Fahrenheit; jeans, a t shirt, and a zip up hoodie jacket wasn't going to keep the 4'7” 95 lb girl; warm.

Turning a corner, Riley quickened her pace down the slick sidewalk until she stopped in front of a small, yet warmly lit house. Gazing at the far left window, she watched as a family sat around a table and enjoyed their Christmas dinner. But the family wasn't just any family, no; it was her best friend's family. Nicholas Fortney and his family.

At this point, some may wonder why Riley didn't just go to Nick's for the night, but that was the people who didn't know Riley. She was too proud. Not only that, but too shy. She didn't want to intrude on the Fortney's family dinner. She was Riley, Nick's best friend. Not a family member, just his friend. She had no right to intrude; or so she thought.

Not wanting to be noticed staring in the family's window, Riley scurried off down the sidewalk and got her blood moving again. 'Christmas Eve and no where to go, how craptastic.' Riley thought with a bitter tone. 'Stupid freaking psychotic mom and her drinking. Had to boot me out on the coldest freaking night of the year and leave me with no where to go.' She thought, feeling angry.

Rosalind Taylor, her so-called mother, was plainly psychotic. She was a single mother and came home drunk at least once a week, and when she did, she threw Riley out of the house. So every week, not necessarily on the same day, Riley walked the streets of New York City, with her school backpack on her back, containing some clothes, her tooth brush, tooth paste, a regular brush, her school stuff, and any other essentials. Her backpack was always packed, because she never knew when her mom would throw her out. But at least she always threw her backpack out with her.

Kicking bits of rock and snow-rock chunks out of her way, Riley continued down the sidewalk towards Central Park. Where else to go on Christmas Eve, when you had no bed or building in which to stay warm? 'Hell, maybe Tim the tin-man had a fire going by now.' Being a regular “homeless” kid, Riley knew many of the other local homeless people. Tim the tin-man was one of many. He liked to use tin cans for whatever he could. As a bowl, a cup, a collectors plate, a hat; whatever he could think of he'd use tin can's for. Hence the name. Then there was also Theresa, an elderly homeless black woman whom Riley liked to be in the company of.

Deep in her thoughts, Riley was oblivious to someone whom trailed behind her, quiet and observant as they both made their way into Central Park. Being so oblivious, she did not even notice the figure as she walked through the park. 'Too freaking cold out here. Curse whatever the hell is up there that isn't helping me tonight dammit.' Riley thought in annoyance.

Running her bare and freezing fingers through her multi-colored hair, Riley gave a sigh of frustration. Maybe her mom didn't like her because of her hair. Could that be it? Or maybe her clothes. After all, kids at school didn't like Riley-the-freak for those things either. From her pink and black spiked hair, to her black vans, kids disliked her. She had friends of course, just not very many. Or rather, not enough to save her from the wrath of others.

Sniffing slightly, Riley brushed back the frozen tear that threatened to leak from her black-lined eye. Gazing at the path straight ahead of her, Riley continued her slow walk through the dark park in silence. Focusing her Grey eyes on her shoes, she ignored any sounds around her, including the crunch of footsteps behind her. Maybe any other person would be aware of the possible dangerous situation, but Riley didn't care, especially not now.

Spotting a bench ahead, Riley quickened her pace up to the bench that was partially covered with snow and observed it, before hastily brushing the snow off and laying in fetal position on the uncomfortable bench. Shivering from the cold, she shut her eyes closed tightly and listening to the sound of her own breathing, as she tried to claim a bit of rest for the night, however unsafe sleeping in the cold could be.

“I don't know about you, but I'd certainly prefer my bed over that.” Came an affectionate and familiar voice from above Riley.

Opening her eyes, she was quite surprised to see her best friend smirking down at her. “Need some company?” Nick asked dryly.

“Maybe. But my mother told me to never sit with strangers.” She answered back, smirking.

“Good thing I'm not a stranger then.” Nick said, and sat next to her as she sat up on the bench. “What the hell are you doing out here, Ri?” He asked with a frown.

“Well, I thought I'd enjoy the nice freezing night and sleep here on an empty stomach.” She replied sarcastically.

“The bitch kicked you out again, did she?” Nick asked, frowning in concern.

“Of course.” Riley answered shortly, tossing her head to flick a lock of black hair out of her eye.

Wrapping his arm and coat around her, Nick gazed down at his smaller friend with further concern. “Why didn't you just come inside my house?” He asked.

For once within in 2 hours, heat flushed across her cheeks as she moved her eyes away from his gaze. “I didn't want to intrude.”

Raising a brow, Nick turned her gaze back to him with his hand, holding up her chin lightly. “How the hell would you be intruding?”He demanded.

Unable to answer, she simply shrugged in response.

“Come on, lets go back to my house babe. It's too cold out here.” Nick said, shaking his head at her.

“But-” She started to protest.

“No buts. After all, what are friends for?” Nick responded, with a warm smile.
© Copyright 2006 Sara Wynter (sarawynter at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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