Creative Writing: Home

Laying on the dirty mattress and watching the television flash bright colors in the dark. He waits for him to come home. When he hears the door open he calls out, “Daniel, I’ve been waiting.” The boy at the door is sheepish and tries not to make much noise as he creeps across the filthy floor, careful not to make a board squeak. It would be a mistake to wake the other residents of the tiny victorian. The paint in the house was peeling and the boards inside and out were starting to rot. He steps into the room and sits on the floor next to the mattress. The man lying there grunted and Daniel took the money out of his backpack and handed it to him. He turned slightly to count the bills and give him a crooked smirk. This is less than last night.

After all I did for your momma you better be grateful that I even let you live here with me. That money doesn’t even begin to pay for her medical bills.” The man wasn’t his father, just his mom’s dirty old boyfriend. Daniel tried to hold back his anger. Momma should’ve never gotten messed up with this moocher but she’d been chained to him. For some reason he could always make her stay with him even after the terrible things he’d done. He’d remind her of the money, and that she needed him. Daniel’s body became cold and he shook with anger. At that moment he realized he was being weak like her. Even at fifteen he could take care of himself and this man was just tying him down. He ran his fingers through his long, dirty hair. Daniel stood up and made for the

For all the times he’d tried to escape he’d always come back. This life was an Albatross around his neck and he needed to shoot it down but he never could. He shut the door and ran out of the broken house. Just like that he was alive, feet on pavement and heart on fire, he was running down the lonely street. The block was full of houses like his own, worn down with many crowded residents. Each had their own story and burden. The street lights were a glare in his vision as he realized how cold the night was. It would’ve been a good idea to bring his sweatshirt with but now it was too late. If the man was right, he’d be back by morning. Daniel’s light brown hair was just to his ears and mostly covered his dark eyes. He swept it back behind his ears and felt the first hint of sweat forming on his brown. He picked speed and dug into the cement as he passed the bright lights of the luxury district full of tourist traps and bright neon lights. There were small groups huddled outside the buildings. People were smoking and drinking, Daniel could hear the familiar sounds of the city, the deep voices of men and the high shouts of women calling out to each other. Would he show up to work the next day? Mr. Greenberg probably would probably be disappointed, most people assumed that Daniel was careless and sleazy like the man he lived with but Mr. Greenberg actually took time to learn who he was rather than just assuming. The run was