Who do I talk to now?

Jason Davenport

I sat on a bench outside a small supermarket. It was my second night sleeping in the streets. To me it still felt like a dream. I'd gotten angry, cried, begged my mother for forgiveness, but still nothing.

The tiny hope I'd harbored that Dad would come looking for me has dissipated. And now I was completely hopeless, helpless. I had nowhere to go, no one to talk to.

No one in town wanted to employ me because "my family acted like we owned the world".

I'd never felt so tired in my entire life. And deep down I knew it was all my fault. Who do I talk to now?

Maybe if mom was alive...

No, I stopped myself. This was all on me.

I sighed, wiping the tears that stood on my cheeks.

Maybe if I made an effort, maybe if I proved myself, showed everyone that I was truly remorseful. Maybe dad would take me back. Maybe mom would stop being disappointed in me. Maybe Amelia would forgive me. Maybe Adrian would be friends with me again.