I’ve gotten into trouble with the cops
countless times by now. Every other day is just running from the cops or
standing outside thinking. It’s all my friends’ fault. He betrayed me.
Everything is his fault.
I tried to remember what day it was.
It was a Sunday. I went to the train station to watch the trains and people.
It’s the only thing I like doing besides annoying the cops. I don’t know why I
like it, I just do. My mom thinks I should go get a job and not look like a
biker. I tell her I’m sorry she’s disappointed. I light a cigarette and breathe
in deeply, then let all the smoke out through my nose. I look like a dragon. I
tap my cigarette, sending embers and ashes into the wind. The cigarette slips
out of my hand but I don’t care. I stomp it out and lean against the same bus
stop, closing my eyes. I guess I stayed like that for a long time because a kid
who was around 7 or 8 pulled on my arm. “Hey mister, are you all right?” she
asked. I smiled at her.
“Yeah, I’m fine.” I said.
“Ella, what are you doing?” asked the
girl’s mother.
“I’m so sorry about her,” the mother
said.
“It’s all right. Have a nice day,” I
said.
The sun was setting. If I have kids, I
want a kid like that one. One who makes sure everything is alright with
everyone. Even if she doesn’t know them. Suddenly, I remembered something. It
happened 10 years ago, when my former friend and I were little. We were playing
around on the monkey bars. I fell and got hurt. My friend had gone to get help.
There were other kids on the playground, and mothers too, but no one would help
me. In fact, no one helped me when I was little. Except for my former friend, who
now has abandoned me because we got into a fight about my dad around a year
ago. My dad was always drunk, and he would hit people and get into fights. One
day my friend had called the cops. He thought he was doing me favor, even
though I had explicitly told him not to, many times. Why did I tell him no?
Because if my dad got arrested, his drunk friends would come and beat me. My
friend said he would just call the cops and have them arrested too, but it
doesn’t work that way. I can’t explain it, but it just doesn’t. I managed to talk to the cops and not have
him arrested. My friend left, shortly after that. He couldn’t understand that
even though my dad didn’t care about me and was a pathetic, drunk loser, he is
the only family I have.
No one cared about me then, and no one
cares about me now. Except for that little girl, Ella. She has been the only
good thing that has happened to me this year. Even though I just met her, she
made me happy. She cared. I kind of
want her to be my kid. I’m not sure about having kids and that’s also my
friend’s fault. He told me all the bad examples of parents out there. I told
him that I would care for my kid and make her happy unlike my childhood. “Are
you sure? What if you mess up? It’s not like you can go back in time and
reverse it.” He had told me. Ever since then, I’ve been scared. What if I’m a
bad parent? What if my “Ella” grows up and hates me?
A train whooshed by whistling,
snapping me out of my thoughts. It was getting dark. I started walking into the
city. As I was walking, I heard the sirens of cop car. I ducked into an
alleyway and waited for it to pass. I knew it wasn’t after me, but you can
never be too careful. I remerged onto the street, lit a cigarette, and became
lost in my thoughts.
I wondered about Ella. It would be so
nice to have her around. She would love everyone and everything. No matter who
or what they are. She would have lots of friends and they would come over and
play. Unlike me, who didn’t have any friends. I was lonely, and my dad always
yelled at me. Even when I was with my former friend, there was a type of void.
I can’t really describe it. It’s like a feeling of emptiness, a black hole, a
sadness that couldn’t be filled. That’s why I say no one cares for me, even when
I was with my friend. In fact, I don’t think he ever liked me in the first
place. He was always a goody-too shoes person and always blamed me for things.
Although for some reason, when I met Ella that void became filled. Maybe I’m
thinking too much about this, but I could swear it did. I shook my head, no
point in thinking about things that weren’t real. I headed back to my
apartment.
The next day it was bright and sunny.
I lit a cigarette and headed down to the train station. When I got there, I saw
the bus stop where I met Ella. I sighed. She obviously wouldn’t be here, so why
was I looking for her? I stood at the bus stop again and became lost in
thoughts about the past. Five years ago, my former friend and I drag raced cars
one night. We got into so much trouble with the cops. But when they questioned
us, he claimed I was drunk (which I was) and that he was just going along with what
I wanted to do. He wasn’t drunk though. He told the cops that he was making
sure I didn’t get into an accident. I doubt they believed him. Maybe he slipped
them some cash or something. I stayed at the train station until it became
dark, then I headed back into the city. I looked up at the sky and saw clouds
forming. It’s going to rain. Strange how one minute it can be sunny and the
next it can pour like no tomorrow. My stomach growled. I went to a restaurant
that was painted red. It was Italian food, and it wasn’t very good. I ordered
alfredo pasta, but they didn’t make it correctly. There’s an art to having the
sauce be not too watery and not taste like cream. The sauce was dry and it
tasted like cream. I didn’t tip the waiter. I walked outside and took one of
the umbrellas that was in the box. It was pouring outside. As I stepped into
the rain, I saw a girl and her mother. I walked a little bit behind them. The
shop I passed was playing Rihanna’s
Umbrella. It was at the chorus. The girl and her mother didn’t
have an umbrella, even though it was dark and rainy. The mother was holding a
soaking wet newspaper over her daughter’s head to try and keep her dry. Was
that Ella and her mother? I squinted through the torrenting rain. It was!
“Ella?” I called out. The mother and
Ella turned around.
“Yes?” the mother said.
“Do you want an umbrella? I can share,
or actually you can have this.” I said. The Umbrella song was coming to
an end. I would do anything for that little girl. She was my sunshine in the
rain. Just then, her father came with umbrellas for the both of them. As they
walked away, I realized she could never be mine. I wouldn’t find someone like her
that cares about everyone just by meeting them. She cared about people
naturally, like it was her job. She was raised with love in a way which I
wasn’t; and she gave that love freely. But it was genuine love, because it did fill that void in me. It was only
filled when I was with her though. I started shaking, thinking that I would
never see her again. I stood in the blackness of night and the relentless rain.
I let go of my umbrella.