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Hi, my name is Sybil

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The Joys of Entropy: 1

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5 with 2 vote(s)

By silentlyscreams

Created: 2008-06-08 21:17:04

All stories by silentlyscreams

This story goes nowhere.. honestly, its mostly bs so you can avoid it. Just.. I dont know what to say right now. I can warn you that it has a lot of profanity. On and on..

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Ishiya__

Ok. So this is how it works: We are F[U]CKED. Human beings are part of this big scam. Everything happens for a reason and that reason is to end us.

And mankind deserves it, too.

Wiping out entire populations of animals, killing ourselves in wars for the dumbest reasons, destroying the rain forest (our air supply), and most people don't even notice. Or worse, don't care.

What's my proposition on this? Simple. We get rid of the big dicks behind this not so secret conspiracy and replace them with smaller dicks who could care a little more about Mother Earth with all her bounty and our fellow man.

And I don't know about you, but I find getting f[u]cked by smaller dicks is more enjoyable and benefactory. You can take that literal when you put my current position in there.

I am a wh[o]re. As in, my body belongs to my pimp and my female parts belong to the person with enough money for the hour.

But this is America, and we do what we have to do to pay the bills. As an American, I'm always looking for someone to blame for my problems, It's just part of culture of passing the buck.

Eli__

I don't know how to say “f[u]ck” nicely. Sure, it can be used to describe an intimate moment, but that really isn't a nice response to the person laying beside you. To me, a situation will pop up on some random occasion demanding the word and I don't know how to respond. Should I ruin everyone's misconception of me and open my big mouth or should I turn the other cheek and brace for the next attack.

Bracing is what I do. It comes and goes, but I'm always braced for something.

But I can't not open my big mouth.

So it was no surprise to anyone when I screamed into the face of the bigger, possibly stronger man. It was no surprise that I was p[i]ssed and stupid and in a drunken rage. It was insanely obvious how this would end; me probably running while someone called the police and a black eye – if he was nice.

You may be asking how I got into this position. It's simple really. I have a big mouth – previously mentioned, no life, and thus way too much free time. I spend it unwisely, usually getting drunk and causing trouble. So, this was expected. So much so, that I could feel Manny clicking her tongue at me while searching for an ice pack.

Sybil__

It doesn't take much to make a scene around here. One kid on the street causing trouble, and it usually ends with someone threatening him. A bunch of street kids begging for food, money or some other materials to provide a means to survive in this cold world usually ends with someone calling the cops and several bruises.

So we normally avoided each other. Unless there was an amazing opportunity ahead.

I stared at the redhead across the street. He was unfamiliar, with his long dirty hair covering half of his pale face. He must have felt my eyes on him because he raised his head and stared straight at me. I waited for a scream, I always got a scream, but his gaze never wavered. Instead, he crossed across the street without bothering to check for cars.

Stopping right in front of me, he reached up to brush stray locks away from his eyes. To get a good look I suppose.

“Hey,” he grunted in greetings. It sounded rougher than I expected, but it wasn't one of the forced grunts that guys used to make themselves seem tougher. I was immediately greeted with flashbacks of Eli with that thought.

“Hi,” I muttered as quiet as I could trying to avoid his gaze.

I wasn't used to this, guys approaching for no reason. Sure, I had stared but that was far from any normal reasoning to come towards me. What was this guy thinking?

“So,” he said when it was obvious I wasn't going to speak anytime soon. “Do you hang out here often?”

Suddenly I remembered what I had been doing while he was staring. My hands had been touching the bottom of the dumpster, searching for the familiar rustle of a food wrapper. Something to indicate something edible. My feet were off the ground while I hoisted my entire body into the air with my superhuman upper body strength. It was around that time that I drifted into thoughts, the kind that only came around when I was starving. Then my gaze had wandered, and lingered on him.

At the thought of him, I blushed madly.

He smiled at my discomfort before slipping out of his bulky jacket and rolling the sleeves of his dark red hoodie. Jumping over the edge, he landed with a squishy thud in the dumpster. I stood there like an idiot while he swam through the mess.

He hopped out and held out a Chinese takeout bag, full to the brim with almost fresh veggies and a couple of unopened containers.

I gaped at his good luck. I never would have ended up with such a bounty.

“If you don't mind me asking,” he started after jumping down and handing me the remains of someone else's life supply, “but why don't you do like normal people and buy it?”

“You've already guessed.”

It wasn't me being smart – that can happen on rare occasions, but not this time. It wasn't me avoiding the question. It was just that I didn't need to tell a regular person what it's like being homeless. He just wouldn't get it.

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