Inescapably Lost

The soft sprinkle of rain bounced atop the umbrella, the boy looked up at his brother, he smiled down at
him,

The pair walked by a grand house adorned with shining white marble, gleaming and embellished by the
cleansing rain, it's perfectly trimmed dark green grass halted by the sidewalk on which the boy stepped.

“Have you thought any more about coming to my game tonight?” the boy asked,

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world, just don’t spend the entire game in the penalty box this time” his
brother joked.

They both laughed, the both of them leaning and bumping into one another as they walked on.

The boy felt wholehearted in what he didn’t realize were such precious moments, he felt as if all his
worries were washed away,

Consumed in déjà vu, the boy’s thoughts were interrupted by the gentle pat of his brother’s hand on his
shoulder.

“And that’s all you need to know about the way home” his elder brother concluded, though the boy
hadn’t paid attention for a second, and nodded as if he understood.

The boy spotted an oncoming puddle in his path, murky with dirt that had gathered on the sidewalk.
Excitedly, the boy took two large hops and shot up in a jump, driving his feet into the puddle, his brother
raised his hands to block mud from splashing his face.

Expecting to see a grin on his elder brother’s face, the boy looked up to see his brother lower his dirtied
hands, revealing his tightened, bitter eyes.

“My Shoes” the boy’s brother confuted lowly.

Slowly, the boy tilted his head to look at the shoes on his feet, his brother’s shoes, their fine white
leather ripped and scratched from toe to heel, laces besmirched with grime.

“I think they look better this way” the boy chuckled, nonetheless his elder brother’s expression
remained the same.

“You said I could wear them” the boy muttered, as his brother's silence continued.

“I’m sick of you”, “I’m sick of having you around, I’m sick of you taking my things, I’m sick of walking you
home” the boy’s elder brother scolded, grinding his teeth together as he spoke.

The boy’s brother grabbed him by the collar and pulled him close, the boy could see no emotion in his
brother’s face. Ever so quickly, before he could process what had happened, the boy was shoved
backward, off the sidewalk, crashing into a tree.

Pain rushed through the boy’s body as he watched his brother storm off down the street until he was
out of sight, by then he felt well enough to return to his feet.
Once upright and his senses collected, the boy struggled to hold back tears,

“Why did he do that, he’s never hit me before,” the boy thought.

Gathering himself, the boy still knew he needed to get home, for the rain was no longer a gentle drizzle
but downpour, clouds were all that was above, it seemed as if the boy’s world just got a little bit darker.

Thus, the boy sent off in the direction his brother had, continuing on the sidewalk with confidence that
it was the right way.

The boy walked, and walked, he knew that by now he should have been home, he shouldn’t still be out
in the cold rain, and his confidence faded into alarm.

With the realization that he was lost, anger built up within the boy,

“Why wasn’t I paying attention, why didn’t I care, why was my brother such a jerk” he mumbled under
his breath as he clenched his fists.

The further he walked the less familiar his surroundings seemed. The houses on the street seemed
older, what used to be charming white picket fences were now blackened, kicked-in boards, the uncut
and yellow grass in the yards were long enough to brush the boy's ankles, making him shutter.

A couple of older kids sat atop a porch several houses down from the boy,

“Finally, people” the boy celebrated.

He stopped in his tracks to get a better look at the group, they donned all black leather clothing, had
piercings throughout their faces, and passed around a cigarette.

The boy hesitantly approached the porch which they sat, as he stepped toward them, they took notice
and whistled at him as if they were calling a dog to come close.

An eerie feeling overtook the boy as he came nearer, on the porch the teens whispered and chuckled to
one another while keeping an eye on him. Just as the boy was halfway across the street, he decided that
maybe he would find someone else for help, and abruptly changed direction back to the sidewalk.

“Hey, where do you think you’re going” one of them shouted, as the boy turned his back to them, his
head turned to see that they were descending from their stoop towards him.

“What do you have in those pockets” they hollered, and with that, the boy bolted off down the street,
his toes scraped against the pavement, he could hear the splashing of the pursuing boys behind him,
they shouted and laughed as they gained on him. In the distance the boy spotted a busy street full of
people, surely, they couldn't hurt him there. The boy's breathes were heavy, his legs were sore and tired
but he kept pushing onward, sprinting as if his life depended on it because in his mind it did. Just as the
boy reached the bustling crowd in front of him he felt a hand on his back that forced him to dive into the
legs of a passerby.

Rolling over, with his back on the wet concrete, the boy looked up to see none of the pursuing teens in
sight. The numerous people scurrying on the sidewalk seemed never-ending and they walked over the
boy as if he wasn’t even there.
“excuse me,” the boy said as he made an effort to quickly return to his feet but was bumped by another
man passing over him.

All the boy could hear was constant chatter and the ring of cell phones of each passerby that walked on
with briskness but was quickly replaced by another.

Eventually, the boy managed to grab onto the coat of several people over him and hoist himself up, not
they noticed or even acknowledged him, the boy felt invisible and out of place.

Shoving through the crowd of people surrounding him, each one walking by with incredible efficiency,
the boy found an exit and stepped onto the street, hectic with cars and only feet away from them.

Only across the street, the boy pinpointed a police officer, a glimmer of hope overtook him.

“Police are good, I know that, I only need to cross the street” the boy reflected

Waiting for what he thought to a moment in which the cars were clear, the boy took a single bound onto
the street,

“Get out of the way!” the boy heard a voice yell.

The boy’s head swiveled to see a man in a taxi cab to his left that seemed to appear out of nowhere. In
confusion, the boy stopped moving, frozen in this tracks, he looked toward the street, this moment of
hesitation had cost him his chance of crossing.

“Kid are you bloody deaf, move before I get out of my car” the driver yelled, this time the boy could see
the spit fly from his mouth as he stuck his head out the car’s window. Feeling as if his shoes were rooted
to the ground, a nervous shiver shot up his spine, he couldn’t move, the officer, his rescue was but a
tread away.

A shoe flew through the air from the taxi and smacked the boy dead center of the chest, the air in his
lungs exploded out of his mouth. Kneeling, he saw the taxi driver, open his door, and the boy began to
scramble back onto the sidewalk pushing through the consumed sidewalk into an ally.

The boy sat atop a garbage can and tried to catch his breath, he stared up at the dim, gloomy sky, now
the rain was pouring and bombarded his jacket like bullets. The boy took a second to look around, water
shot off the rooftops into the ally, trickling down the beaten black bricks and down the garbage and
trash on which the boy sat.

“There you are you little shit” the boy recognized that voice, it belonged to one of the teenagers who he
had been chased by earlier. One by one, each of them seemed to emerge out of each area of the ally,
the boy was surrounded. Trying to make a run for freedom, the boy jumped to his feet off the garbage
can but was swiftly grabbed by the shoulders and pushed back onto it by the burliest of his attackers.

“Whatta you got, huh” The teenager slighted lowly, and closed in like vultures,

The boy tried again to struggle and wiggle his way out but again he was pressed to the wall.

“What did I tell you about being here” a voice echoed through the ally, each teen turned to face it

“I-I'm sorry, we’ll be out right away” the burly one pressing the boy against the wall muttered.
Slowly the teens had backed out of the ally, silently as they did so. The boy belatedly got a look at the
man who had spoken, he was well dressed, with a light brown overcoat and trimmed dark beard and
dark hair.

“Thank you” the boy sputtered,

“Don’t mention it” the man replied as if he was bored, and proceeded to walk out of the ally,

“Can you help me find my home” the boy pleaded, “I’m lost, cold, and hungry”

The man stopped his walk and turned around, “If I helped every scant runt who asked for it, do you
think I would still be at the top”

The boy didn’t respond, and the man paused as if he awaited a response,

“No, so piss off” and with that, the man exited the ally.

The boy stared down and the trash below his feet, and a tear rolled down his cheek, he had never felt so
defeated, he had nowhere to go and no-one to ask for help. Thunder roared above him and lighting
speared through the thick, black clouds, rain pelted the boy, it felt as if the whole world wanted to
attack him. Further in the ally, the boy observed a couple of empty cardboard boxes among the trash.
Sobbing, the boy dragged himself to the boxes, the smell of rotting filth filled his nostrils and he almost
gagged. Just as the boy went to lift a box it shuttered. The boy leaped back,

“What could it be, a raccoon, a snake, what now” raced through the boy’s head,

What emerged as the box was lifted was no animal, but a man covered, and rags stained by dirt but
clothed him, a long white beard fell from his chin, and he smiled at the boy.

“And who are you,” the man in rags asked,

“I’m lost” the boy responded,

“as am I” the man in rags replied, “though I feel it's one lost soul’s duty to help another's, perhaps I can
be of assistance if you were to provide some details pf where you live”

The boy smiled back at the man and described to him where exactly he lived and what his house looked
like.

As they walked through the quiet, empty streets, the man in rags revealed that he too had lost his
home, but made it clear that his no longer exists, though he is happy to be without it, this made the boy
feel grateful that he even had a home.

Soon enough the boy was standing outside his house, wished the man in rags farewell, and entered.