Never Alone

• Michael Jones, Grade 6
• Short Story
• 2020

Brendan sat silently on the only chair in the apartment. It was a brown, fake leather chair that he bought six years ago. It was covered in scratches and food stains, but Brendan kept it mostly because he couldn’t afford to buy another one. His bloodshot, tired eyes were fixed on the pink piece of paper in his hands. A tear dripped down his face and onto the paper. He got up off the chair and began to pack a plastic supermarket bag with the few items of clothing he owned. Brendan was a tall and scrawny man with messy, long blonde hair and an unkempt goatee. His kelpie, Nora affectionately licked his hand and then the salty tears on his face. Brendan put the makeshift dog lead on Nora, which was a piece of old rope, and went to sit in the alleyway outside what used to be his apartment. Brendan scratched his elbow as he slumped down and put his back against the rough brick wall and just sat there for what felt like hours. A stumpy overweight man from the apartments noticed him from the edge of the alleyway and yelled to him “Get out of here or I’ll call security!”

Brendan slowly stood up and headed off towards the town, pausing for Nora to catch up every couple of minutes. When they finally arrived at the town centre, Brendan found a large wooden bench to sit on. It was wet and covered in graffiti but Brendan didn’t notice. He just sat there outside the supermarket and nobody gave him any notice, except an elderly couple who stuck their noses in the air and scurried away as if they thought they were better than him. Nora jumped up on the bench and sprawled out, laying her head on Brendan’s lap. After a while Brendan drifted off to sleep. When he woke, Nora had something tucked into her collar. It was a twenty-dollar note that somebody must have left for them. Brendan tied Nora to the bench and with the money, ran into the shopping precinct and bought a four-pack of bread rolls, a packet of ham that was reduced as it was almost out of date, and a lottery scratch card. Even though he couldn’t remember when he last ate, he needed some luck right now to turn his miserable life around so he put the food into his bag and frantically scratched at the card with his long fingernails to reveal… nothing. It wasn't a winner.

Brendan began to cry and was annoyed that he thought a scratch card was the answer to his problems. He got the pink eviction notice out of his dirty jacket pocket and read it again. Now it was real, they were homeless. He looked into Nora’s big brown eyes as she licked the tears from his sad face then snuggled up against him as if to say, we might be homeless, but we’re not alone.