Jake.
I was thankfully in a warm place when the first snowflake fell. Everyone walked into the train dusting the cold off of the shoulders of their business coats. They all made light conversations about the snow or how high they predicted it would get. The automatic doors closed again. Through the graffiti on the sign, I could make out the word Bridgeport and then the train began to move causing the words to blur. There were only three more towns to go and before long, I would be in New Haven, Connecticut. With every passing moment, my stomach flipped and tied itself into a knot. I knew that once this train had reached its final destination, I would be faced with the harsh reality of being alone. There was no plan, I had no more money, but going back was not an option. I was just unsure of what forward would be like.

I have always been alone and that was all I knew how to be. My mother and father only showed up on two occasions: my dreams and my nightmares. In my dreams, they were normal people who worked nine-to-five jobs. They were always there when I needed someone to talk to. We lived in a suburban area where all the neighbors watched me grow up. We were average people in my dreams, but in my nightmares, the truth came out. My mother was a city prostitute with a drug addiction. She slept with numerous men; consequently, my father had a name or a face. For all I know, he was just a quick fuck to help her habit. I have bounced around from different foster homes, never finding a place that I was truly happy with or that was ever happy with me.

I was lost somewhere in my own thoughts when I discovered that I was alone once again. I almost laughed at the cynical irony of it all. People emptied the train when it reached its final stop. It hadn't been snowing in New Haven, but there was a light, cold drizzle instead. I grabbed the one duffel bag full of old, tattered clothes from under my seat and shadowed everyone else off the train. It wasn't long before my worn shoes took me outside into the new weather. There, I was surrounded by people going in and out of the station. A procession of taxis and cars filled the path in front of the entrance that continued out into the street. People were hailing for a ride or recognizing faces of their loved ones in familiar cars. I didn't have much money for food let alone a taxi that was going nowhere. I pulled my worn, cotton hood over my already wet hair and decided to walk.

The station got smaller and smaller every time I looked backwards until I decided not to look back anymore. Spanish music played as I passed a small street before a crowded police station. A few cops looked me in the eyes. I looked down at their guns, then towards their daring eyes, to their guns again, and then kept walking without much hesitation. Over the loud sounds of the cars passing through the wet streets, I could hear my stomach growling. I hadn't realized how hungry I truly was until the smell of foreign coffees and teas hit my nose. It was becoming harder to fight my hunger. From across the street, I could see young college kids walking in and out of a pastry shop. The shop was encased by glass making it easy to see the cookies and cakes and danishes from outside. The words on the glass read au bon pain. Instead of standing in the rain like a lost puppy, I opened the doors to walk in. The warm aroma of spices filled my senses. Students sat oblivious to the world as they typed on their expensive Mac laptops. Jazz music played softly setting a tranquil environment.

I wiped my feet on the burgundy-brown mat in front of the door with no plan in my head. There wasn't a penny to my name; not even lint was occupying the space in my pockets. That's when I noticed that the lines were long and everyone that was working had their attention on something else. All I had to do was grab a cheese danish and run as if my life depended on it. My stomach did flips again as I inched towards the pastry-filled cases. I looked around to see if eyes had made it towards my sketchy appearance. When I figured that the coast was clear, I opened the small, glass door and grabbed what I could in my shaking hands, smashing it into the pocket of my old, leather coat. I retreated out of the store without looking backwards, feeling as if I had made it safely to home plate, but I suddenly felt a hand on my shoulder. My stomach sank down to my knees then came back up towards my throat. I felt nauseous as I turned around, my heart pumping fast.

An elderly, black woman with white hair stood behind me only a few inches shorter than me with her arms folded tight against her chest. Surprise first masked my face, but was immediately replaced by shame.

"What are you doing, young man?" She asked me in a low, disapproving tone.

"I-I was hungry..." my voice trailed and I fumbled when I spoke. Even to me that sounded pathetic. "I'm sorry, miss. I don't have any money and I'm just really hungry."

Her expression changed a little, softening at my truthful words.

"Relax, no one ever went to jail for stealing a stale cookie." She said as she cracked a smile. I was too nervous and still ashamed so my face stayed blank. I was apprehensive to leave, but I still began backing away from her until I heard her voice call out to me. She closed the gap between our bodies again. "If you need some money, my husband could use a hand around his shop for a little while."

"I'm kind of homeless so I don't think I'll be a reliable worker."

"Kind of homeless? You're a mess if I ever did see one." She smiled, laughing lightly this time. "I'm sure my Henry wouldn't mind if I let you sleep in our basement for a night or two."

"I'll be fine." I didn't trust this lady. Then again, I had never trusted anyone in my entire life.

"Suit yourself, but it's gonna rain all week and I don't know how long you think you're gonna survive on stolen food."

She turned on her heels and walked from underneath the shade of the storefront then walked towards the curb. She walked around the other side of the station wagon and got into the driver's side. Just as she closed her doors, lightning flashed in the sky followed by a thunderous clap. Rain poured from the sky in buckets. A chill ran through my entire body. From the car, I could see the woman reach over towards the passenger side and crank down the window.

"I can't have you getting struck by lightning now. Just get in the car." Her tone stayed motherly yet firm. I looked out from the shade and saw that the rain wasn't letting up anytime soon. I debated in my mind for a while then gave up fighting with her and myself. Her eyes were kind enough and my options weren't much greater out here. Trust her or not, I didn't want to freeze to death in the rain. I sprinted through puddles towards the car and felt the warm air as I slid into the seat. When you're at the bottom, there's nothing but up.