Unanswered Questions

• Jaimee Dando, Grade 10
• Short Story
• 2011

Cold wind blew on my face; it felt like tiny needles pricking me over and over again. I had grown used to the pain being out in the cold all these endless nights. My right hand had gone numb due to my glove falling apart out of wear. No matter what time of day or night it was or wherever I may be, I would constantly have a million eyes on me; not just looking at me but judging me with their cruel heartless thoughts. I looked down at my hand and saw a small charm in the shape of a cross. I squeezed it hard and looked up to the sky. Why am I here? Why am I alone? Why am I cold and in pain? Why won’t anyone help me? One tear trickled down my face but I could not cry anymore; I was too tired, too sore and too alone. I walked down the same street that I had for the past week at the same time. I looked in windows seeing happy families enjoying their fancy meals and most likely taking it all for granted. I envied them but also hated them. I stopped at the store I always did and looked in to see that it was closed. Usually I would go in and look around but obviously they had closed early tonight. I put my face up against the window and saw the jewelry box I had begged my mum to buy me just two weeks ago. I wanted it so bad but had no money to buy it, and I had never built up the courage to steal it. I needed it though. Every dollar that would be thrown at me in pity I would not spend it on food, I was saving it for that precious box; my only memory of being loved, having a mum, dad and brother and being in one of those happy families. I continued down the street with my whole body feeling numb. I walked further then what I was used too. I was not familiar with this area but was determined to keep going; it’s not like I had anything to go back too. I passed a small grocery store and saw a stand out the front holding newspapers. On the front there was a big heading ‘Devastating House Fire, three killed, one missing’ I picked up the paper and ran. I heard a man behind me yell out but I ignored it and pushed my legs faster. On the bottom of the page I saw my beloved mother, father and brother. I hugged the page tightly. I reached into my pocket and pulled out a small clear plastic bag; inside, my escape. I stared at the white powder not knowing what it was exactly but knew it would take the pain away. I looked at the page one last time then opened my hand which was holding the cross and looked up, “Why me?”