I brought the cigarette to my lips, glancing at the carton of Luckies I had snatched of a table in a Café. I inhale the smoke in deeply, relishing the foul taste it leaves in my mouth. Holding it in, I let the bitter flavor of nicotine spread through my mouth and into my lungs. The jitters come quickly with that first intake, numbing me in the best of ways. It burns, but I do not care, it brings me comfort.

I felt invisible as the crowd of people walked past me, sharing an occasional glance of disgust. Leaning against the school gate, I wiped my sweaty hand on my baggy shirt, putting my carton of cigarettes into my pants pocket. Although I didn’t attend school, I liked loitering around it. The students were my age, making me almost feel like I belonged. However, they always avoided me in large circles, occasionally tossing garbage at me. I was just a street rat to them, a nobody. I snicker in self-mockery and let the smoke flow out of my mouth. Ignoring the jeers the bigger kids sent my way, I stared at the burning cigarette in a trance.

“It really hurts.” I mumble to myself, recalling all the tiny red scars that decorated my shoulders and back. Hearing the bell mark the start of the classes, I closed my eyes with a grimace. Tomorrow was my sixteenth birthday, but I was done being that whore’s canvas. This was the year. I felt my hands shake at the prospect. Snapping out of my trance, I continued enjoying my dose of nicotine.

Though I had grown out of my habit of eavesdropping on classes, I still liked hanging around the school. Not as if it mattered, I was not welcome here or anywhere else. I heard a disgusted snort as one of the more popular girls in school passed by me with a bunch of her dimwitted friends, clearly late for class. I look at the girl, thinking there was really nothing to be impressed about, and give her the finger.

One of her rabid friends stops and curses me before raising her hand to slap me, ”Don’t! You’ll get contaminated if you touch it!” One of the girls squealed with some laughter. The girl trying to hit me jumped away, and looked at the other one gratefully. I sneer and move from my leaning position as I walk in her direction, "What's the matter, Sandra? Weren't you going to hit me? Go ahead."

I spread my arms and grin, taunting her as I flick the cigarette at her. She looks at me with disgust, scrambling away to her little clique. She spits at my feet, "Fucking trash, don’t you say my name! I would gladly beat the shit out of you if you weren't a fucking bag of STD's. If I see you around our school again dirt bag, I’ll seriously tell my daddy to call the police. I’ll make sure you rot in prison where you belong. Seriously, you should just drop dead.”

The girls rushed to school, obviously both amused and disgusted by their encounter with me. I couldn’t help but laugh at her idiocy. They weren’t the only ones I knew from this school. There were quite a few ‘’fans’’ that I had in this one. Recalling the beating Conrad’s crew unleashed on me last week, I couldn’t help but feel my anger rise up. Those bastards really were too fucking cocky.

I shake my head and look down at my clothes. Dirty, baggy and torn, maybe I should take a walk to the river to wash them. With a bitter chuckle, I turn to look at the bicycles neatly placed near the entrance. My eyes widen when I recognize one of them as Conrad’s mode of transport. With a mischievous glint in my eyes, I looked to see if there was anyone around. It was a good thing the cameras on the gates were phonies. I should know, considering how many pockets I picked around here. Once I saw no one was around and the class was in session, I walked to the bikes casually. Taking a closer look at Conrad’s bike lock, I grinned seeing it was not a combination lock, but a regular key lock.

Pulling the lock picks out of my sack, I easily got rid of the lock before pulling the bike out. Glancing at the other bikes, I nonchalantly kick them over while whistling. The bikes fell like dominos, scraping against each other and making a racket. That was the cue to make myself scarce. Taking another cigarette, I put it in my mouth with a smirk, "Suits you right, you shitty bastards."

I light the little cancer stick of doom and casually walk away, pushing Conrad’s bike along the road. I felt a bit lighter in my chest. Maybe I could try learning to drive it before taking it to the scrapyard. Contemplating my options, I decide the bike is in too good of a condition. They’ll definitely think I stole it. The paint job needed scraping, the base was too straight and the lights worked.

I knew just the place. Feeling a bit excited, I increased my pace and went to the old factory. Looking around the huge, abandoned mass of concrete and seeing the shitty building, I could finally relax. This place was one of my favorites. Empty and abandoned. Trying to figure out how to get started, I attempted to get on the bike but fell over immediately while cursing. How the heck was I supposed to keep my balance on that thing?!

Trying again, I kept at it, falling over many times before finally figuring out the quirk behind keeping the balance. Though I took it slow, I found the faster I went the harder it was to stir so I crashed into a rubble of bricks. Wiping the blood off my knee, I wobbled unsteadily but the pain didn’t bother me too much. Seeing the bike was a bit banged up, I grinned but knew I needed to wait for a bit before selling it. People tended to forget in a week or two, the cops mostly not caring about little things like bikes. They’d search for a few days before the file got lost amongst the dismissed pile that never saw the light of day.

Taking it over to the factory, I hid it behind a pile of wooden palettes before dusting off my hands. It was time to call it a day. As the evening set in, I aimlessly walked around the streets until the pangs of hunger became too much to bear. Grimacing, I stopped in an alley and closed my eyes to try and bear the moment. When did I eat last? A day or two I think. I suck in a deep breath, trying not to think about it. I look around for a restaurant and spot one pretty close to me, called ‘The Tasty and Fresh’. I have no fucking clue what that means, but the tantalizing smell of food makes my pain worse.

Walking over casually, I glance inside through the glass windows. It was packed with people, mostly young adults laughing and eating. Damn, that sure looked delicious. My stomach protests as I stare at the dripping juices and sauces leaking out of the sides of their mouths. I swallow hard and hold my sunken stomach as it keeps complaining. Seeing some people my age sitting in a booth and hanging out, I start to shower them with silent, colorful curses when I see them throw half eaten food in the trash and leave after paying with credit cards.

Suddenly, my attention shifts and I can see my own reflection in the glass window of the restaurant. My brown hair was long and messy, with dirty noodles for strands. My cheeks and eyes seemed hollow, giving me the appearance of an ill junkie, even though I never touched drugs in my life. Pale, rough skin, and yellow teeth made me look like I haven't seen the sun in years. My clothes were baggy and excessively big considering I stole them a week ago from a laundry room downtown.

With a sigh, I looked away bitterly from the hateful reflection that showed exactly how malnourished and miserable I was. Shaking my head, I spotted an alley around the corner, "Bingo." I grin and whisper to myself. These kinds of restaurants usually had another exit into the alleyway where they disposed of the waste. I knew there was no point in trying to go inside, they would just kick me out. I run over and spot some trashcans next to the locked, metal door. Feeling a bit excited, I opened one cheerfully and froze. It was empty...

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

With a shudder, I gritted my teeth and grabbed my stomach in discomfort. My eyes snap to the back entrance as I clench my jaw. Here goes nothing. I walk behind the door since I can tell it opens outward, and throw the trash lid with all my might into the other bins, knocking them over and making a ruckus. I crouch down and lean against the cold wall, waiting. As expected, a thin man opened the door to check what was going on. I could hear him talking to someone about how the trash bins were knocked over. They argued for a bit before the man put something down to hold the door as he went to fix the mess I made.

With quick, silent movement, I sneaked into the restaurant and hid in a corner that provided decent cover behind some boxes. The workers were too busy to notice me as I glanced around with some desperation. My hands were shaking but I knew this was my shot to grab some real food to eat. The kitchen was relatively large, the counters set in parallels. My eyes flashed with a hungry glint when I spotted three large burgers with fries lined up on the counter just a few steps away from me.

I looked to the side cautiously to observe the fat, busy cook making patties while the other workers made fries and assembled the burgers. There was a large open window in front of the cook where everyone in the restaurant could easily see what was going on in the kitchen.

A pretty waitress walked up to the window and asked for order 11. I braced myself, feeling determined. It was now or never. One of the workers took two burgers and handed them to the waitress. As soon as she disappeared from my sight, I silently moved past the boxes. Sweat dripped down my forehead as I rushed over and grabbed the third burger.

My heart was beating erratically as I practically hugged it to my chest, turning to go for the exit. Unfortunately, in my rush, I accidentally knocked over one of the boxes, spilling tiny ketchups all over the floor. No longer caring about staying hidden, I went for the door, which was still propped open.

"OY!? Greg, get that little rat! You think you can steal while I'm on the job? Think again!" Someone shouted from behind me as I rushed out into the alley, bumping into the man who was fixing the trash. Not letting go of my loot, I stumbled but managed to stay on my feet while the other man tripped backwards, falling into a puddle with a curse.

Just as I was about to make a run for it, I felt the air get knocked out of me as the mountain of a man slammed me against the brick wall. My body groaned painfully under the heavy force of the fat cook who grabbed my shirt and lifted me up with a frown. Tossing me to the ground, I tried my best to protect the food as he sat on the back of my legs, stopping me from moving as he viciously hit my back with a spatula. I kept my silence out of sheer habit, but damn, did that hurt.

Gritting my teeth, I stared at the burger that was now soaked by the dirty rainwater. That was more than edible in my books, all I can do now is hope it stays that way.

I grunted as the heavy man hit me again, “If ya think ya can just waltz in ‘ere and steal from me, then I better teach ya a lesson brat!” As soon as he got up, I scrambled away from him and leaned against the brick wall spitting out the tooth that was chipped in the slam. The fat pig stared at me with anger, "If I ever see ya 'round 'ere again, I'll call da cops. You got that, brat?"

I clenched my jaw in habit, not saying anything. After all, the whore raised me not to talk back, but I couldn't stop myself from giving him a hateful glare of defiance. I tossed a quick glance at the burger, secretly hoping for him to go away. The fat cook caught my slight movement and picked up the burger as if it was the most disgusting thing ever. I stared in horror and threw myself at him, grabbing his apron with desperation. His cold, indifferent eyes looked down at me, "Let go kid, before I give ya another beatin'."

I didn't want to let go. That was my best chance to eat something substantial. Who knows how long it would take me to find another chance like this or pocket enough money. I stared at him with pleading eyes, "P, Please, I'm really hungry. I'm sorry I tried to steal, but I don't have any money." He stared back at me for a while and snorted as he kicked me away, “C’mon Henry, no need to kick a downed mutt.” I fell down on my face, scraping my chin in the process. I heard the bang of the door and, when I finally managed to sit upright, saw that I was alone in the alley.

I felt something wet on my cheek and glanced at the sky, but it was a clear evening. Bitterly wiping my face, removed the useless thing known as tears and stood on wobbly legs. My stomach growled painfully, forcing me to groan as I hugged myself around the waist, trying to suppress it. Somehow, it helped relieve the pain, but it also felt a bit comforting.

I swallowed hard since my mouth was dry and got myself together. I flinched when I stood, noticing that my ankle was sprained. A few extra bruises were nothing new, I’d be fine after a while. I knew that it wouldn’t rain again today so there was no need for me to go back to the hellhole. I slowly limped towards the direction of the park as I endured the pain in my body from both the beating and the hunger.

I looked into every single trashcan along the way, picking out some edible looking garbage. After gathering enough to fill my belly, I took a seat in the deserted park and glanced at my menu. A half-eaten hotdog with questionable dressing, judging by the smell, coffee must have spilled over it. There was some kind of bagel, a bit moldy but still edible. My last item was actually a decent score, an actual donut with only a single bite in it. Even looked relatively recent. The hotdog was horrible, that stale coffee giving it a sour flavor but I scarfed it down with some difficulty. Though my taste buds were pretty much dead at this point, the strong flavors always made the worst impressions. I always ate my food from worst to best, so that the last taste would stay longer.

After eating the bagel and relishing the donut, I leaned back and stared up into the starry sky. I was still hungry but it would settle in a while since I got some food in me today. The worst part about constant starvation was that, no matter how much you ate, the hunger would never leave you. You could only hope to live with it.

Will I be able to go through with it this year? Closing my eyes, I reached into my pocket and took out my shiv. Looking down at the small weapon I’d made from scraps and pieces, I could clearly picture the moment I murdered the whore. Closing my eyes, I imagined the moment as she walked in through that door and I’d just stab her, over and over again until the whole goddamned place was contaminated with her filthy blood. I would make her suffer, returning all that she had given me all these years.

I couldn’t do it last year... But it has to be on that day! On my day! Feeling my hands start to shake, I quickly put away the weapon and stumbled away. So far, I couldn’t find the guts to use it, the consequence of failing were enough of a deterrent. Standing up, I could no longer handle the dryness in my mouth. I was thirsty, but knew there was a drinking fountain around the corner.

Limping over, I drank my fill before noticing a couple making out on a bench. Though that wasn't really what caught my attention, it was the pretzels on the side and the wallet nearly falling out of his pocket. Seeing they were stuck in their own world, I walked over casually and "tripped", making sure to crash on them.

"What the fuck! Get away, dude!" The guy quickly stood up and grabbed his girlfriend to pull her away. I glanced at them apologetically and smiled, "Ah, my bad. Please excuse me." With a snort, they both left the park, ignoring me completely.

Getting to my feet and walked further away until I found a dark corner with a free bench. Taking out the pretzels I had swiped into my baggy shirt, I immediately dug in while checking his wallet. Seeing 20 dollars, I felt my face split with a wide grin. That should be enough to last me a month! And after I scrap that bike, it will last me even longer!

I pocketed the money and tossed the wallet as far away as possible. The pretzels were heavenly. I finished them quickly and lit a cigarette, staring up at the stars as the smoke left my lips. I held it within my mouth and lifted both of my hands up to the sky. With two middle fingers up, I grinned, "Screw you, motherfucker."

***

The next day, I woke up with horrible cramps in my back, but it couldn’t be helped. That's what you get for sleeping on a park bench, I was used to it. With a grim expression, I stared blankly at the large clock in the middle of the park, which showed that it was quarter to nine. Feeling horrible after last night's beating, I got up and walked slowly in the direction of the hellhole. I knew that I had to go even if I didn’t want to.

It took me an hour to get there, but once I stopped in front of the detestable door, I knew it led to my own personal circle of hell. Seeing it was slightly ajar, I got the feeling that something wasn’t right. The whore always came in the evening, no way was she home at this time.

Hesitantly, I pushed it and peered inside carefully. There was a horrible stench in the room, making even someone like me flinch in disgust. It normally smelled bad in here, but this was just like roadkill. Noticing her heels were tossed into a corner, I knew she was home but the apartment was deathly silent.

The place was completely empty. Closing the door, I grabbed the back of my neck nervously before reaching into my pocket. With a shiv in hand, I carefully walked around but saw no sign of the whore.

My hands shook as I glanced at the last room. If she was passed out in the bathtub again, I could kill her easily. A nauseous feeling settled in my stomach as I stood in front of the bathroom, the stench even more intense. Quivering, I opened the door and coughed violently as the smell hit me. Covering my nose, I looked inside with a sickened face.

The whore laid within the disgusting brown liquid inside the tub. Her pale, dirty face half submerged into the muck that was the bath water. It was a mixture of filth, urine, and blood. Her arms limply stood at the sides of the tub with deep, messy wounds on her wrists, a rusted razor lying in a small pool of stale blood. The flies were dancing on her rotting corpse.

She did it... She beat me to the punch! I fell to my knees, dropping my shiv as I covered my face, unable to stop shaking. Soon enough, I could no longer contain my hysterical laughter filled with complete and utter glee. Tears of joy streamed down my face for the first time while my laugh filled the empty silence.

***

As the fog seemed to finally clear up from my mind, I found myself in a familiar, dark abyss.