LimitedWriter

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I'M A WRITER. IT'S JUST WHAT I DO.
 Hey theree. Thannnkk youu for visitng thee profile. Read the stories down belowww.  Love or hate'em, it's all meee.
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~Don't judge a book by it's cover~


      

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street child
Chapter-9
 
 No. 
It's not like in the movies.
No fireworks explode in my head, and it's not anything like I thought it would be.
It is better.
Much better.
After a few seconds, I softly pull my lips away from his, trying to hide my spreading smile.
Jack's face is almost glowing, and he looks straight at me, touching the edge of his lip.
"So" He breaths quietly.
"Should we do this again sometime?"
"Yes." I answer.
"I think we should."
*****
For the next couple of weeks, we are inseperable.
I know longer think about my messed up life, and all of the tragety I have faced in my 14 soon to be 15 years of living.
All I can think about is Jack.
His messy brown hair, his crooked smile surrounded by his full rosy lips.
And mostly, his green eyes.
I stand on the curb of the street where we first met everyday, and wait for him to pick me up.
I ignore my grawling stomach and the dark long circles under my eyes from lack of sleep, because I know everything will be better once I'm with him.
I begin to smile as I make him out in the distance, jogging past the busy streets of the city towards where I stand.
I slide my hands around him, grabbing the back of his neck as we kiss for a moment before walking down the street.
"Where shall we go today?" He asks, wrapping his arm around my torso.
I am practically clinging to him and I can smell a hint of mint on his breath, followed by the farmiliar smell of coffee.
"I dunno." I answer, my words slurring together quickly.
He purses his lips for a second, looking down on me.
He seems upset, almost a little annoyed.
"Why do you wear the same exact outfit everyday?" He suddenly asks.
"I told you, it's part of my religion." I lie through my teeth.
"No, that's not true Sari." He finally sighs, letting go of my waist.
I furrow my brow and cling closer towards him, only to have him push me away gently.
"What's your problem?" I spit, clenching my fists together angrily.
"What's my problem!?" He challenges back.
"I think you mean what's your problem!"
I stare back at him in shock.
He has never treated me this way before.
"Don't talk to to me like that Jack!" I yell, giving him a sharp push.
He ignores my gesture and continues talking towards me.
"I think the world of you Sari. And I thought we told eachother everything." He speaks.
"We do!" I answer, taking a step towards him, as he takes a step back.
"No! I do!" he shoots.
"I've literally poured my heart and soul out to you, telling you every little detail of my life. Yet you waste your breath on me with your worthless lies."
He stares at me, his eyes filled with hatred and I turn, not wanting to let him see me cry.
I begin to walk away, thinking he will make an attempt to stop me, but he dosen't, and when I look back, he's gone.











 

street child
Chapter-8
 "Sari."
He repeats my name like its his favorite word in the world, like it is some secret key that unlocks a magical hidden door.
"I've never heard a name like that before." He breathes, completely mesmorized.
"Yeah, it's different I know." I say. kicking a pebble off the side of the road.
"No, I ment it's beautiful, and it fits you perfectly in that way."
I feel the heat creeping up onto my cheeks, a pink tone covering my pale ghostly skin forming a blush.
Nobody, and I mean nobody has ever called me beautiful.
Not my parents, not my friends, not even Asher.
And now this random boy that I've only met one other time thinks that I'm beautiful?
Me?
"Thanks." I reply,biting my lips to hide my smile.
"Jack's a cool name too." I mumble, looking up into his gaze.
His sea foam green eyes sparkle, blending in with his tanned skin and light shaggy brown hair.
"Yeah, I was named after my father." he replys as his eyes slowly slip away from mine, curving down towards the ground.

"Don't you kind of have to have a big ego to name your son after yourself?" I ask teasingly, a smirk forming on my lips.
He flinches at my words as he looks back up at me, clearing his throat.
"My Dad, He um...he died before I was born."
My smirk turns to a tight frown as I realise what has just happened.
My cheeks brighten up again, a mixture of embarressment, guilt, and sympothy welling up inside me.
"I'm so sorry." I whisper.
"Sometimes I speak before I think and I just didn't..." He cuts me off by giving me a playful nudge on the shoulder.
"It's fine, everyone makes mistakes." He states, giving me a shrug.
I nod politely, fidgiting with the split ends of my hair.
There is a long pause as we stand across from eachother on the busy street, people passing by us in a hurry.
"Well, I should get going." I finally say, trying to walk past him.
He stops me, putting a hand on my waist, and I squirm away.
"Sorry!" He yells, quickly pulling his hand back.
"I just wanted to know if y-you maybe would like to go somewhere w-with me but you d-don't um have to like..."
I cut him off with the sound of my foot hitting the paved road, my arms crossed firmly.
"Can you just spit it out already?" I ask, slightly annoyed with his stammering.
"Sorry." He mumbles again.
"Do you want to go to this coffe place with me, it's right around the corner?" He asks, a hopeful twinkle in his eyes.
"Ummm, I'm not so sure." I respond, furrowing my brow.
I'm always so undecisive.
"Oh come on, you don't want a steaming cup of joe?" He questions, giving me a light smile.
"I'll pay?"
My mind is telling me to decline the offer, but I bite my tongue and follow him anyways.
For some strange reason, I trust this boy, and that's something I have a hard time doing.
*****
We enter the coffe shop, and I sigh at the warm cozy feeling it brings.
It sort of reminds me of the feeling I would get if I got to walk into my own home.
Jack orders me a decaffinated coffee and a banana nut muffin, and we find a booth in the very back of the joint near a wide open window.
I am about to take a sip of my coffee, but he puts a hand to my lips, whisking the coffee away from my hands.
"Let me blow on it first." He says, moving his mouth towards the edge of the cup.
I watch as this lips form the shape of an O, blowing into my coffee mug.
They are so...perfect.
"There you go." He says, flashing his pearly whites as he hands me the cup.
I grab it from him, taking a sip before placing it gently on the table.
"So...how's life?" He suddenly asks me, leaning in closely.
"Umm...it's good." I manage to choke out.
I can't think straight when his face is just inches from mine.
"Have you ever kissed anyone before?" He asks, getting even closer.
I cringe slightly when I remember the experiance that I had with the older guy named Amar.
"No." I breathe, moving in closer.
"You're a horrible liar." He states, before our lips meet.





 

street child
Chapter-6
 There is no possible way that they clergy dosen't hear the extremely loud noise of my face coming into contact with the tiled floor, but he dosen't come out from the other room.
He must be having a serious phone call, I think to myself ,as I scramble quickly to my feet, grabbing the food.
People use every chance they get to catch street children in a crime.
People want to rid the world of us "thugs" so the world can be a "better place".

They find it amusing to catch us and ship us off to the juvenile deliquent centers or even jail.
They get a thrill from it, like pest control gets a thrill of catching mice with poisonus traps.
Its the same feeling, I'm sure of it.
I leave the store, holding my food closely towards me.
I know I can't eat it all now, I'll need to save it, preserve it for as long as I can.
I continue walking down the street, scaling large brick buildings, searching for a place to hide my food.
I'm sure if I fall asleep, or leave my food anywhere in plain sight, it will be snatched from me.
I can't have that happen, I just can't.
I stop when I spot a pulled up ladder and a garbage can sitting next to it.
I climb on top of the garbage can, jumping and grasping my hands on the cold metal ladder to pull it down.
Then, I climb the ladder, careful not to spill any food.
As I am nearing the edge, I feel my leg slip beneath me and my whole body tenses up in panic.
I quickly reattach my foot to the ladder, hopping over the edge.
It is a small fire escape, and a hindged window blends with the brick house on the side.
There is lilac flowers covereing the whole area and a small chair in the center.
I sigh happily, placing the food under the chair as I curl up and drift asleep.
*****
I wake up to the noise of a loud cracking of some sort, and I jump from my position, defending myself from any guns or other loud weapons near me.
I stop when I realise where I am, and that the sound is coming from the window.
A little girls face appears from the other side of the glass material, staring at me intensely.
She has her pajamas on, and holds her blanket to her face, pushing hair from her hazel colored eyes.
She taps the window again, and I yell loudly, hoping to scare her away but she just sits there, continuing to stare at me, cocking her head to the side.
She stares at me for a moment biting the edge of her lip before leaving the room.
I smile satisfied that I've scared her off, and head down the ladder.
I have alot to do today.
I head many blocks down the road, almost out of the city, stopping at about three different stores.
I am getting used to the routine.
Walk in, take a few things, wait until the clergy isn't looking, run as fast as I can.
After each store, I return to my ladder, placing the loot in the fire escape before heading back out.
As I am about to call it a day, I stop, eyeing a music store across the street.
I run over, gawking at the golden saxaphone laying perfectly in the center of the store.
It's late at night and the store is closed, and I can't help it.
I have to get this.
For my brother.
I turn ,looking for something heavy.
I find a cylinder brick in a garbage can, tied with a bundle of rope.
I lift it up over my head, tossing it through the window.
The sound of the glass shattering in unbelievable loud, and makes me jump.
I know I have to act fast.
I quickly run into the store, grabbing the sax.
I ignore the brutal pain in my feet as shards of glass peirce through the tough skin, and run down the street.
I can hear the sounds of alarms and police cars in the distance and I quicken my speed, trying not to cry.
I have truly become a criminal.













 

street child
Chapter-5
"Who should I call?" the boy asks, pulling out a cellphone.
"A family member? The hospital?"
He runs his hands through his brown curly mane, unaware of what to do.
"Nobody." I respond.
"I'll be okay."
"Well, you don't look okay." He says a little rudely.
"And you sure as hell can't feel okay." 

I am taken aback by his choice of words, but compose myself to respond.
"Please." I mumble.
"I'm fine, okay?"
He nods understandingly and sits from his knees, getting ready to go.
He's about to walk away but he seems undecisive.
"Can I at least give you my number?" He finally asks, guilt in the depths of his green eyes.
They remind me of a tropical forest, lush and full of life.
"Yeah, whatever." I reply, rubbing the back of my neck.
He reaches into the small bag slung over his shoulder, and pulls out a black sharpie.
"I can't find any paper." He mumbles, getting frustrated as he vigorusly digs through his bag.
I sigh, resting my good arm on his leg.
He slightly shudders at my touch and I consider pulling away.
"Just write it here." I say, pointing to my wrist.
He looks up and smiles lightly, tracing the numbers onto my skin that appear in a thick black color.
At that, he sits up and continues down the road, looking back at me every one or two seconds, and finally he is out of sight.
I crumble onto the ground, my head roughly hitting the edge of the paved road.
I curl up into a ball, holding my arm tightly.
What am I going to do now?
I've lost the only family I have.
My brother,My best friend.
And now, I have absolutely no money.
Panhandling won't work anymore.
Nobody wants to give money to beggars.
I sit up, pushing a lock of wavey brown hair behind my ear.
I know what I have to do, and I don't want to do it, but I have to.
If I want to live, that is.
*****
It's about 3 am in the morning, yet the whole city seems to be wide awake.
I rub my eyes, yawning loudly.
I'm not used to being awake this early.
Not that it's easy for me to sleep anyways.
Street Children always have to keep their guard up at night.
Especially those who stay on their own.
Not that you would know, but there is a whole different world when your living on the street.
There's enemys and alliences, and people that you just need to stay away from period.
I stop infront of a conveniance store, breathing quickly and heavily.
My heart is beating so loudly, that I think I might be given away.
"You can do this." I mutter to myself.
"You need to survive, you need to live."
I stop thinking altogether, and turn, walking into the conveniance store.
I cringe at the sound of the bell ringing as I open the door, and I quickly start down the aisle.
I lick my lips in satisfaction, grabbing a package of powdered dougnuts, and an overly large box of animal crackers.
The clergy behind the counter continuessly stares at me, and I can feel his eyes on me even when I'm looking away.
He knows I'm a street child.
I cringe once more when I hear the sound of the phone ringing, and the clergy picks it up.
I can't quite make out what he's saying because of his thick accent but he seems angry.
I watch eagerly as he steps from behind the counter and into another room.
Here goes nothing.
I pick up my pace, running towards the door, only to fall flat on my face.











 

street child
Chapter-4
"Asher!" I yell, turning my attention back to my brother, sprawled on the paved ground.
I run quickly and kneel down besides him, tilting his head over.
His body is badly bruised and his nostrils are dripping with a dark red blood, forming a pool behind him.
"Asher!" I scream again, shaking him.
That's when I see the wound.
Just below his belly button, a dark red blotch seeps through his tathered white shirt.
"They stabbed him." I whisper to myself.
"Oh my gosh, they stabbed him!"
I run from the ally, stopping abruptly when I smash into a boy.
He looks about my age.

"Can I help you?" He asks seriously.
I nod quickly, trying to talk but no words will escape my lips.
I grab the edge of his hand, trying to tug him towards the ally, and he gives me a nervous look before following me.
I stop towards the ally, looking down.
I grasp the boy's hand again, pointing towards my brother.
"Help him." I manage to choke out.
"Please."
He swallows heavily before kneeling down next to Asher, putting a hand on his chest.
He stands completely still for a minute before tilting his hand down.
"I'm sorry." He says.
He looks up at me, his sea foam green eyes filled with agony.
"He didn't make it."
My chest ripples with a feirce pain as little sobs break the surface of my burning throat.
The boy is compassionate, and though I don't know him very well, he hugs me tightly, rubbing his hand up and down my back.
I feel safe in his arms, and that's a feeling I haven't gotten in a while.


 

street child
Chapter-3
 "Leave her alone!"
I  watch as Asher tries to punch the guy, but the others just push him up against the brick wall of the bulding.
I cringe as he recieves blow after blow, a loud smack after the fists come into contact with his face.
He dosen't cry or even complain.
He just continues to stare at me, desperation on his face.
"My name's Amar." the guy says, as he finally reaches me.
He grasps my arms tightly, forcing me to face him.
"That's spanish for love."
He winks at me and I move my lips around, combining the remains of saliva in my mouth as I make a feeble attempt to spit at him.
He laughs at me and moves his face just inches from mine so I can smell the sour beer lingering from his breath.
"Aww, don't take this the wrong way sweetie." He says, carressing his hand down my cheek.
I try to struggle away from his tight grasp, but it's practically impossible.
"Listen!" He shouts a little more aggresively, as he pulls harshly on the ends of my hair.
"A guy wants what a guy wants, and I paid with cold hard cash."
I manage to look back at Asher, a tear trickling down my face.
Amar smiles at me, leaning in for a kiss.
His lips softly brush against mine, and then again ,and then once more.
I whimper softly, as he pulls me closer towards him, continuing to kiss me.
I remember my twenty dollars, and I push away with all my might.
"I have money!" I gasp.
"I can pay you back!"
"No." He breaths into my ear.
"I don't want that lousy three bucks back, I want you."
He leans in for another kiss but I push away once more.
"I have a twenty." I whisper.
"It's all yours as long as you let me and my brother go."
He groans loudly in defeat before letting me go, and grabbing the money.
His friends (probably gang members) shrug, letting Asher go and I watch as they pace into the distance before blending in with the rest of the city.


 

 

street child
Chapter-2
  There, standing on the edge of the street, Kendall stands, pushing her blonde curls from her masscara stained lashes.
I lower my eyes, envying her beauty.
She pulls her mink coat tighter around her, giving me a friendly smile.
I put my sign down quickly, giving her a smile back.
I have not seen Kendall since I was 10 years old, at the Summer Camp I used to go to every year.
That is the last time I went to summer camp, before my parents abandoned the house, leaving me and Asher alone to fend for ourselves.
Kendall eyes the sign and my dirty clothing that barely clings to my skin.
"Don't worry." I lie.
"This is just an experiment for school."
"An experiment, what type?" She asks, pulling out a loose thread from my poor clothing.
"I'm conducting an experiment to see how many people will stop to feed an innocent street child." I laugh.
I cringe on my words, feeling bad for mocking myself in such a cruel way.
She dosen't seem to know I'm lying, or she is just playing along to make me feel better.
"Oh." she speaks, a smile forming on the edge of her lips.
"In that case, I'll put in a twenty."
She reaches into her designer coach purse, pulling out a rolled up wad of green cash, dropping it in the basket.
My mouth drops open and I gasp quietly before quickly snatching the bill from the basket.
"You spend that on yourself." She says, winking her eye.
"Just be sure to include my name in that project of yours, and tell everyone what a savior I am."
I nod quickly, smiling to myself.
I want to tell her that, infact, she is a savior.
"Take care of yourself." She whispers, giving me a tight squeeze, before continueing down the street, strutting quickly in her pink stiletto heels.
I drop the sign, running quickly, the wind thrashing wildly through my strung out brown strands of hair.
I turn down the street towards a tiny ally where Asher stands, talking to some other guys.
"Asher!" I yell, waving the bill in my air.
"Asher, look at what I have!"
My smile dissapears when I see him turn towards me, his face pale as a ghost.
He gives me a warning glance, and he throws his hands in the air, motioning for me to run.
I stand, completly still.
One of the guys turn to look at me, a small smirk forming on the edge of his lips.
"Wow Asher." He says, turning back towards my brother.
"You were really holding back on me."
He takes a large step towards me but I still don't move.
Not even a muscle.
"She's much more hot than you made her out to be."
I am completey frozen as he continues to advance towrads me, his hands rubbing back and forth as he licks the edge of his lips.



 

street child
 Chapter-1
I wake up feeling like I do every day.
Scared, and a little bit miserable.
I stretch my arms, pulling the newspaper tighter around me.
I'm not ready to wake up yet and start another unimportant day of my messed up life.
"Look, there's a street child." I hear a husky voice yell behind me.
That's what people call us.
People make fun of us, because we don't have a home or a decent education.
I turn towards the end of the street, pounding my fist in the air to scare the twerp off.
People also call us sewer rats, and thugs.
They are afraid of us.
Scared we'll jump'em if they get to close.
Scared they'll catch some dirty disease of ours.
I curse under my breath and turn back onto my stomach, only to be woken up once more.
"Sari" the farmiliar voice yells, shaking my shoulder.
"Sari, get up!"
I rub my eyes and turn to face my older brother Asher, nudging me with his hand.
"Rise and shine." He sighs, forcing a smile between his chapped lips.
I moan loudly and force myself up, pulling my thin sweater tightly around me.
"So what is the plan today?" I ask, poking at a fresh bruise on my arm.
He hands me a basket and an abandoned sign with the words please feed us in bright neon paint.
"You know I don't like to beg." I whine.
"It's...embarressing."
"Well we don't have much of an option today." he confesses.
"My sax got snatched."
I gasp, putting my hands firmly in my head.
We had used every once of money we had left to buy him that saxaphone.
It was basically our means of survival.
"Don't worry." He says, patting my back reasuringly.
"I'll get it back."
I give him the thumbs up, trying to make him feel better even though my mind is racing with panic.
How is a 14 year old and a 16 year old going to make money in this city?
I begin walking towards the edge of the street, holding the sign up, my soft voice trying to penetrate through the sounds of venders yelling and the sound of honking horns.
"We need food." I scream out, trying to make my voice sound innocent.
A group of rich men in suede tuxedos walk by not even bothering to glance my way.
I tilt my head towards the side cringing my ear when I hear my name in the distance.
"Sari....is that you?"