Creative Writing On Homelessness

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I find myself in a small metal room with no door and nothing else except the four walls surrounding me and the floor. Every sound I make ricochets off the shiny surfaces and makes the shallow layer of dark colored liquid on the floor ripple. I bend down and dip a finger into it only to be disgusted and frightened when I realize it's blood.I wipe it off on my jeans and gently put my hand on the wall to my right which, to my surprise, is extremely cold, way colder than metal should be. It makes me shiver. I pull my hand away as an excruciatingly painful jolt resonates in my stomach and forces me to double over. The pain is what I imagine starving to death feels like. I try to remember the last time I ate anything but I can’t. In fact I can’t …show more content…

The movement causes the blanket that was covering my bottom half to slide off my bed and land in a heap on the hardwood floor. I lock the window and stare at the empty street barely illuminated by a single streetlight. My neighborhood is small and no one really bothers to look after it since there are only a few residents, most of which live a long ways down the road. This is preferable to my family considering we like keeping to ourselves.
I watch as the wind picks up a few leaves and sends them spiraling down the sidewalk into the black abyss that is at the end of my extent of vision. The emptiness is oddly peaceful. It creates a welcoming silence, and the dark colors are easy on my strained eyes. I turn around and grab my glasses off my nightstand. After positioning them over my eyes I lean over my bed and start to reach for my blanket but hesitate.
What am I doing? Im 16 and still afraid of the monsters under my bed? I mentally scold myself and tightly grasp the soft blanket. I quickly pull it up onto my bed and wait a few seconds. Nothing. No hands trying to grab my wrists, no demonic snarling, nada. I chuckle slightly. “Wow Tom, those frightening monsters almost got you. Better be more careful next

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