Categories > Original > Drama > Forced
I still remember the knock on my door, it was them, they had come for me.
They had taken my house, and my things, they took my money, smashed all my pictures.
I had only the clothes on my back, my ukulele and my rucksack, with only my iPod in, the only thing in it, these were the only things I had managed to save.
Now I was living in Putney, on the streets, begging for money, playing my ukulele to scrape together my food money, barely making enough to keep myself fed for a day.
I sat here, in my parka, playing my ukulele, trying to get money for my dinner tonight, at the moment, I have 30p in a hat, sat on the pavement in front of me, this is all the money I own in the world. I didn't know where I was going to stay tonight, I was utterly alone in this world, I wasn't allowed near my old house, they would 'get me' if I did. I would die for a roof over my head, I missed the warmth.
People never gave me money, I only occasionally was taken pity on by a kind stranger, they would drop a few coins into my hat, and I would smile back, shocking them, realizing how young I actually was.
I continued playing my ukulele, louder this time, trying to attract the attention of the
people walking by on the busy London street, nearly all of the walking straight by, kicking my legs out the way, muttering 'stupid child'. I switched my song, 'What You're Told - Perfect People', this was the first song I ever learned how to play, it meant to much to me.
Around halfway through playing, and half-singing/muttering the lyrics, someone walked by me, skinny jeans, white shoes, cool.
He stopped, directly in front of me, he seemed to know the song.
Unfazed, I carried on playing the song, singing the lyrics.
After about another 30seconds, I looked up, immediately stopped playing, not by choice, I was forced to.
I knew this face, the messy, tangled, curly hair, the deep brown eyes, and the hat, perched on the back of his head.
I knew HIM, from the cover of all my Perfect People CD's, this was unreal. I couldn't believe it.
"Hi, are you playing 'What You're Told'?"
They had taken my house, and my things, they took my money, smashed all my pictures.
I had only the clothes on my back, my ukulele and my rucksack, with only my iPod in, the only thing in it, these were the only things I had managed to save.
Now I was living in Putney, on the streets, begging for money, playing my ukulele to scrape together my food money, barely making enough to keep myself fed for a day.
I sat here, in my parka, playing my ukulele, trying to get money for my dinner tonight, at the moment, I have 30p in a hat, sat on the pavement in front of me, this is all the money I own in the world. I didn't know where I was going to stay tonight, I was utterly alone in this world, I wasn't allowed near my old house, they would 'get me' if I did. I would die for a roof over my head, I missed the warmth.
People never gave me money, I only occasionally was taken pity on by a kind stranger, they would drop a few coins into my hat, and I would smile back, shocking them, realizing how young I actually was.
I continued playing my ukulele, louder this time, trying to attract the attention of the
people walking by on the busy London street, nearly all of the walking straight by, kicking my legs out the way, muttering 'stupid child'. I switched my song, 'What You're Told - Perfect People', this was the first song I ever learned how to play, it meant to much to me.
Around halfway through playing, and half-singing/muttering the lyrics, someone walked by me, skinny jeans, white shoes, cool.
He stopped, directly in front of me, he seemed to know the song.
Unfazed, I carried on playing the song, singing the lyrics.
After about another 30seconds, I looked up, immediately stopped playing, not by choice, I was forced to.
I knew this face, the messy, tangled, curly hair, the deep brown eyes, and the hat, perched on the back of his head.
I knew HIM, from the cover of all my Perfect People CD's, this was unreal. I couldn't believe it.
"Hi, are you playing 'What You're Told'?"
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