I’m a dick. I left them. I kissed her one day, said I would be back, but I didn’t return. I want to go back for them, but I’m not exactly in a place to provide for them just yet. I’m still living on the street. The day I left was because I finally kicked my dad’s ass, and I was hauled into jail. I got off on a warning, but when I walked out of court, I just kept going. I miss them. I love them as if they’re really my family. But then again, how can I say that when I’ve left them to fend for themselves for the last two years?
I can only hope that they got away, that they’re not dead. I really think if Briar had taken any more beatings, she wouldn’t make it. Again, I’m a dick.
I’ve been sleeping behind an MMA gym every night, only because it’s still my dream, though no one would take me seriously right now. I’m scrawny, still digging in garbage cans. But a guy can have a dream, right?
My life won’t be like this forever. And once I’m making money and have a place to live, I’ll find Briar. I love her. Thoughts of her are what keeps me going.
“Move.” I feel a leg kick mine.
“What?”
“I said fucking move,” the older man hisses at me.
“Fuck off,” I hiss, sitting back farther along the wall, hoping he’ll just move on.
“This is my spot,” he sneers at me.
“Didn’t see a name on it,” I growl at him.
He goes to grab my leg, and I kick him in the nose. This is almost an everyday occurrence, fighting to survive on the streets. I went from one hell to another. At least if I was at home, Thorn and Briar would be there.
The man cusses at me but keeps walking. There are plenty of other dumpsters to sleep behind. I sleep with one eye open and dream of Briar.