Overview - This short story is written from the perspective of a young homeless 15-year-old girl named Nadia Whitewater. She's living in Long Island, New York where she's alone as a homeless girl. I wrote this story for poverty awareness and about appreciating and accepting yourself. Enjoy! :) I rubbed my eyes with my rough, worn-out hands. They were splintered and bleeding after days of traveling through the forest. I had returned to the city, my hometown in Long Island. My eyes fluttered shut as the street lights flickered on one by one, attracting buzzing insects to swarm around their lights. I sank into the hard cement, eyeing the leaving shadows of people with jealousy and disapproval. I winced slightly as a strong whiff of gasoline and smoke hit me. I had been away from the city for a week of traveling through the lush green forests and had forgotten about the sickening scent of the oily city. "Na..di...ah..." a slithering voice said faintly. I jerked away out of my daydream-or should I say nightmare? I slowly glanced up and saw a few grubby psychotic faces masked with grins staring at me. I tucked my head in, hiding my eyes. Never go out at night in New York is what I've learned in the past 3 months. "Nadia..." I jerked up, the voice was louder, more clearly than before. "Who are you?" I whispered, my heart starting to race. "Have...you...forgiven...forgiven..them...?" I blinked, unsure how to respond. "What is the point of this? Why-why-are you talking to me?" I realized tears had welled up in my eyes as I looked up, the sky was fading to a washed-out purple-pink and I felt the cold eyes of strangers on me. The voice didn't answer in a while. "They don't want to meet you..." the voice said softly, "Because you think you're not worthy...because you can't accept yourself," I wiped my tears with the back of my hand and stared at the scar my mother and father had given me when they left. "They want to see me?" I mumbled, "They wouldn't want me back." "They...want forgiveness, they need to see that you love yourself, they want to see that your worthy of living with someone else." "My parents...do remember me?" Credits- fontspace.com google images -hold on - chord Overstreet #elsie_c
