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And I couldn’t go anywhere. I couldn’t close the damn door. I couldn’t even look at the door because my head in opposite direction. As I heard the voice closer and closer, I wished the voice would go away and that no one see me under these condition. All I wanted was that the voice gone away along with the biker and I be left alone.“Jay!” Continue the person with exasperation. “Where did this mother fucker go? Jay! Jay, where the…”Upon noticing the interruption, I could only assume, with horror and resignation that the sudden silence could only mean one of three things. One: and the one I hope for; he had found Jay and he was leaving. Two, and most likely for the distance of the voice: he had stepped in front of my room and discovered the bike impaling his manhood on my rear. Or three, and most dreaded: all of the above.“Jay! What the fuck are you doing?” The voice asked.“What the fuck does it look like I’m doing, Donnie?” replied Jay.I rolled my eyes as my heart sank.. I dipped my head, using the lapels of my coat to keep my red cheeks away from the frosty air. I had a worn purple woolen hat on that didn’t match the rest of my clothes but it kept my ears from freezing off. My black gloves had holes on almost all the fingers so I put my hands in my pockets to avoid frostbite. The soles of my boots were partly unglued and they made a small flapping sound when I walked. You probably have seen me in this area and averted your eyes in disgust, not comprehending how a person could sink so low. If you had taken a moment to really look at people on the streets, you would have seen children who had run away from their homes to get away from the abusive people in their lives. You would have seen teenagers locked out of their homes by parents who could no longer relate or talk to them. You would have seen those who are mentally ill or alcoholics who once had lives with homes and families but had either lost them or been thrown out. You would have seen people.
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