I started to hike from our town in my quest for nowhere: a place where nobody knows me. I didn’t know where to lead my sneakers but I was determined to be wherever my parents wouldn’t find me. The sun was up. But it wasn’t enough to make me stop walking. I forgot what halt meant that day.
My back ached and my limbs were bruised. I got them when some assholes snatched my guitar and hit me with it. And a storm of punches and kicks followed after the initial attack. Three men nearly killed me. I did not have the chance to fight back. I fell to the ground and passed out. They took my bag and all the money I had.
The only thing they left me was my guitar hanging by my back. My stomach growled but I no money to buy food. It’s so empty it made me think of the nice breakfast I could have had at home. Mom had been marinating pork chops the night before. I wished those pork chops would fall from the heavens. But I couldn’t look at the sky to wait for them. The sight was harsh: It was raining heat. The clear blue atmosphere rejected my hope for a shade as I walked.
I felt the need for courage to hit a man and take all the cash in his pocket. There was a bunch of well offs in the same street. I could imagine the bills in their wallets and the nice meal it would serve me when I’ll snatch them. But it was not easy. A bunch of police cars were also hanging out by the sidewalk.
Too bad Dad never taught me how to steal and runaway from cops. I wished he could have known how, so I’d feed the hunger that weakened my feet. But I managed to learn and practice some of the techniques: the bills I had for this journey were his. I stole them from his wallet before I silently sneaked out the door and began this tiresome hike.
I was so busy thinking about the screaming hunger inside me I didn’t notice where I was. Everyone was a stranger to me. And they were strange indeed; nobody was happy among them. They were all gloomy like the place they were in. But it was not yet the nowhere I was looking for. I still could remember the steps I took before I got to that place. A few more blocks and I’d be lost. At last, I’d be lost. I spoke inside my mind, as I was excited to find another place I’d start my life on. No more shame for breakfast for a bastard like me. I was close to trashing the thought of the things that hindered my happiness. I’d no longer see my brothers and sisters! I continued walking away to finally be free from the sharpest words they stab at me: ‘Hey dirt bag! The house crowded with your ass being here! Do we need you here?! Leech!’
But my feet hesitated to take the next steps.
I took the chance to gasp for air. I couldn’t carry my sneakers anymore. So I prolonged the pause to a rest and decided to end my quest later. The noontime sun grew old and punished me even more. My eyes searched for a shade to sit under and save myself from being fried. The place wasn’t so clean but I had no choice. Trashes were scattered everywhere. But they answered a hope to my suffering. An empty tin can glittered in my sight.
I could use it to earn some cash. I knew just what to do with it. I’d sit by the sidewalk and play my guitar. Only beggars do that, but that was the only way for me to answer my stomach’s growling.
I was ready to have the passing strangers drop me some five’s and ten’s. I’d also accepts cents if they really had none. I placed the can some inches from my soiled sneakers to finish setting up. And I reached for my guitar.
‘He’s our father! Your strings are your only family. You Tick!’ Those words still rang inside my head. They seemed acceptable at that moment.
But as I held the only for my salvation, I realized it had four broken strings.
And I sat there frustrated until darkness fell upon everything around me. My stomach ached even more. And my brain no longer seemed to work. I was confused.
What would I do if I’d be lost? Where would I go? Where will I pass the night?
I couldn’t think of answers to the repeating questions inside my head. They played like a broken disc for an hour.
I set off on another journey. I did not care about the people in there. The only picture in my mind was the dinner Mom set for me on the table.
I couldn’t stop walking until the sight of the house stunned my feet.
It was still the same. The light from the window told me everyone was inside. I hesitated. My sneakers were glued to the ground. But I pulled them off and forced my steps until I reached the porch.
It was silent. But the door was open.
-Darylle Rubino-
