Tales of Mundance lives

The Alleyway

Running in the dark alley way. Panting and weak. With the only thought no one catches me. The pain is etched onto this body and all the bruises are still on my body. And during these times my memories both act as my anchor to the reality and keeping myself from going crazy. But the longing to be back on those comfortable beds and the cooked food makes me shun this reality itself. For a child of 12 who didn't even knew how to cook on stove, to be thrown by life in a situation where garbage boxes having left overs became my buffet and the daily reality was hunger, day in and day out. s**t! I can hear footsteps chasing me getting closer. And the they caught me. I woke up next day in the same alley way. Not so dark. The last semblance I have is of the kicks and yelling at me for being what I am. A petty thief for them. The things that have changed from last night are my number of bruises and the already shredded clothes are now barely hanging onto me.

...

Sitting in the same alley way I again look for my memories to support me through this day until the pain of my bruises subsides, or atleast becomes bearable. But when you are hungry, even remembering happy times is difficult. The only goal I have now is survival. After that day when the news came that my family died in accident and moving in with my aunt's family was when my misery started. My aunt is a very kind and gentle lady, but her family is not. Hearing all time about how I am just a freeloader from her kids and the occasional beating by her husband piled up on me. So, I ran away from there. Took some money from her wallet, writing a sorry note and some biscuits I ran. I didn't make a bag or anything. I was desperate. I got up at 2 am and ran from her home. I didn't even knew where exatly her home is. I just kept on running until I was tired. And after catching up my breath I ran again. It was 2 months after my 12th birthday I ran. Tomorrow will be my 13th birthday. It would be 9 months, since I ran away. From that time after my money ended I relied on dustbins, these alleys and stealing. The last meal I had was 8 days ago and only water from gardens fountain has been my lifeline to fill me stomach. But now, I don't know if I wanna continue onto living. My goal of survival seems so fruitless nowadays. Why should I survive? For whom? At first I didn't regret running away, but nowadays the thought creeps in that maybe I shouldn't have ran. Maybe I would have been beaten, but I would have roof in my head and a meal to fill my stomach with. Maybe they would have allowed me to go to school. But if I would have gone back, would they have accepted me? Did they even search for me after I ran away? Did aunty's husband beat her because I stole money from her?

...

Even thinking all these makes me tired. My head feels light and my eyes feels heavy. Maybe I should sleep and rest some more. Let's continue tomorrow, but deep down I don't want to continue anymore.

I close my eyes for now.

...

"Hey come here, see there is somebody lying over here. Looks like a 14-15 years boy. Doesn't look alive to me, will you check?"

"This dirty work, just because some important person is coming to check over the locality, they are having us to clean up these people. I have already got three bodies. Looking at this boy I can say he is the fourth. Look, even ants and maggots are there at some places. Just hell me get him up and then we will send him to crematory."