Pariah

• John Palencia, Grade 10
• Short Story
• 2018

Jackson sat down on the footpath beside the wall like he did a thousand times before and watched, as the people of New York scurried away and obeyed their clocks like slaves. Some glared at the teen - who was a mere obstacle to them - with eyes as sharp as daggers, which caused him to look downwards with forlorn eyes as the familiar feeling of shame swelled inside his chest like a balloon. Occasionally, someone would toss him a quarter or other loose change out of pity, but most would avoid making contact with his haunting blue eyes that had seemed to have lost all hope. His focus left the strangers walking past him when he smelled the warm fragrance of bread in the bakery across the road - which cut through the brisk autumn air and inspired even more hunger within him. His pale hands reached down into his pocket, wishing to find more than the two quarters he had left. "Maybe I have enough," he said to himself quietly, but smiled when he caught himself lying. Tears welled in his eyes. He looked down at the coins whose faces seemed to laugh at his misfortune and felt a strong urge to throw the coins at the people who walked by and to those who didn't want him and had casted him away... But alas, he could not afford to do so. Jackson felt a cold sensation slap his face. He looked toward the grey sky above. Droplets of rain had begun to shower him with fury and so Jackson pulled his beanie further down to his oily, matted hair and held his sleeping bag a little closer as he prepared for another wet and chilly night.