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Published by Ecotic
A tale of homeless teenagers and how they feel. Cover art by shve from deviantART.
A tale of homeless teenagers and how they feel. Cover art by shve from deviantART.

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Published by: Ecotic on Sep 30, 2009
Copyright:Attribution Non-commercial


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As Sorrel felt the damp wind flowing through his hair, he couldn’t help but think of how

so little separates those who get to see the world, and those who never will. He thought of all those who have very little money, and how they must marshal their resources towards sustaining themselves and their livelihood, and how in ten years they’ll still be where they are, keeping their spirits afloat by reminding themselves that if they can at least keep running in place, there will be the hope for a better tomorrow. But then Sorrel thought of people like him who have even less, who don’t even have a place to call their own, and how they are free to wander the world, hoping like dandelion seeds that the wind will carry them to fertile ground. And this led Sorrel to become conscious again of the wind running through his hair, and the hope he placed in the kind sage who let him and his friends hitch a ride, that he would carry them to a bountiful land. It was however, Aeolian’s turn to hold the tattered map that marked the destinations of places they’d seen and had yet to see. This was after all, her trip; she always wanted to see the Florida Keys. And yet, as they rode in the back of the pickup truck, she wasn’t looking over the side to see the stars reflecting off of the ocean, like the others did as they all crossed the miles-long bridge. She just sat in a corner, holding the map, arms crossed, and pulling herself close as if she were cold, even though it was hot and humid. And as Sorrel stared at her luminescent silhouette, he couldn’t help but think of how Aeolian was never prone to oscillating mood swings, because her behavior from day to day was practically indiscernible. But yet, he thought if he was to compare the Aeolian of today to the Aeolian of one year ago, the decline in her emotional health was stark and evident in a way that was lost amidst the channeling days. Sorrel’s thoughts however, were fading along with the feeling of weightlessness as the bridge neared its end. The kind man with the pickup truck proved to be as good as any gentle wind, and they arrived in the first of the Floridian Keys as promised. As Sorrel looked around he had one last thought, of how the land was indeed abundant and rich, and how any dandelion seed would prosper if it ended its windswept journey here. The five teenagers scrounged together what little money they had made on the Floridian mainland and settled down for the night in a motel. It was as run-down as any, but somehow nicer than they’d had in months. Everyone was tired, and fell asleep quickly. But mid-way through the night, Sorrel was awakened by faint rhythmic sounds, and experience had taught him that it was the sound of a girl choking back tears. Sorrel quietly got up and walked to the corner where Aeolian was sitting, and he knew that the words he was about to say had better be as meaningful as they are comforting. “What’s wrong? The Florida Keys aren’t as pretty as you thought they’d be?” Sorrel asked as he sat side by side of Aeolian, so close their knees and shoulders leaned against each other. Aeolian didn’t look in Sorrel’s direction, but instead looked down, and spoke with a voice that suggested her mind wasn’t quite up to the task. “No, it’s not that. It’s what we’ve done to get here. Day after day, we steal, and we beg, and we always lie... and you know, when we were all at the orphanage, and prospective parents used to come, they used to let us play on the playground to show us all off. They tried not to let us know what was happening, but I knew,” she said between sniffs. “And I always tried to present myself as best I could, and get picked up by a loving couple, but it never happened. It always made me feel so unwanted, like I was never even looked at! And now, society only sees me as something that must be gotten rid of immediately, like a

weed amidst a field of grass. And so I just drift and leech off people who throw me pity money so I’ll go away, and it's left me feeling like such a horrible person, like I have no worth at all!” And with that, her head collapsed into the corner she was sitting in, and she began to cry profusely, as if she had forgotten she was talking to Sorrel, or didn’t care that he was even there. But Sorrel knew the conversation was still going on, and he used the time it was taking Aeolian to compose herself to think of something to say. Finally though, it came to him. “You know Aeolian... on Christmas Eve two years ago I had the happiest day of my life, because I had convinced you and the others in this room to run away with me. Because when those couples used to come looking for children, I too knew what they were doing, and I was always paralyzed with fear because I thought they’d take someone away that I cared about.” Aeolian began to lift her head off the corner wall as if she was receptive to the message, but Sorrel knew that if he was to truly end the girl’s pain, he had to say more. “And truthfully, whenever a couple would look at you, my heart would drop, because I thought they’d take you away.” Aeolian heard this, and glanced at his eyes only once, and then collapsed her head the opposite direction this time, onto his shoulder, and fell asleep; finally feeling wanted.

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