Night

It's dark out. The sun set somewhere around thirty minutes ago. I've finished my rounds for the day. Jamison can get his damn money tomorrow, because I am starving.

The only person I was even able to mug yesterday got away. She had a baby, and for the first time, I got a verbal beat down by someone other than a member of the gang. And it hurt. I let her go, and that was supposed to supply me with money for dinner, but I'd let her go. And on top of that, it had somehow spiraled into one of those unlucky days where nothing seems to go right.

So I didn't have dinner. I hadn't had lunch either, and only a shake from a street vendor for breakfast. I'm used to not eating much, but I never skip meals because of it. And I am absolutely starving, and now, because I don't have any extra money (not that I had had any to spend on dinner anyway,) Jamison wants the money I earned today. And I quote, he said "you can survive without a few meals. Gimme all the goddamn money you get today, or I'm gonna throw you off the Brooklyn bridge. Your such an asshat."

After that, I got a sweet little uppercut from him, which still hurts like hell. It's a nasty bruise, but nothing I'm not used to. And about that throwing me off a bridge part, he says death threats towards me constantly, so basically, he's just in his normal good old pissed off mood.

I'm just worried about going back there tommorrow, because I need all the money today for my dinner. I haven't had 4 meals in a row, which dosent feel so good, but he wants all of it because of yesterday. I'll just have to suck it up. Especially because it's almost payday.

Every two weeks, all the members of our gang get payed around twenty to fifty bucks each, and I (surprisingly) am the main source of that. Besides Jamison, who earns up to 500 dollars a week. But if you ask me how, I can't tell you. I don't even know. But I bet it's drugs. It would explain his fucked up attitude about everything. Ok. Back to reality.

It's a little darker now, it's been about ten more minutes. I'm walking out of the subway, money in my back pocket. I nudge past some people, finding a Chinese street vendor. I look at her menu, and order the largest helping of chow mein and beef on a stick that I can get.

A few minutes later, I have thanked her and payed her most of the money I'd had, and walking back to the subway. I swipe my card, and head back into the train that routinely runs close to my train yard. I want to eat the meal I got on the train, but there are a few skinny looking poor people in here, worse off than me. I don't want to tempt them.

Once the train gets to my stop, I hop off, and run all the way to the train car I usually sleep in. I settle into my corner of dirty stolen blankets, and pop open the paper bag. The delicious smell of Chinese food seeps up to my nose. I drive a plastic fork full of the chow mein into my mouth, cramming it down. I slowly warm up from the food. It tastes so good. So many seasonings, the sauce, and of course, let's not forget the beef sticks.

After about fifteen minutes, I swallow my last bit of the stuff, and lay back into my little mound of fluffy blankets, and just rest, and think.

It must be about nine thirty or ten by now. The stars have shown through the little hole in the roof of the train car that always sits right over my head at night. I usually have to cover that with a tarp when It rains. But right now, it's cool and dry. I rest, and doze off till the next morning, the dark closing around me in peaceful silence.