A Fresh Start.

This was it, this was the day, I would end it all. No more fake parents, looking to play pretend with me, like I'm some sort of toy. No more pitying sad smiles, and overly concerned, too nice teachers. No more feeling like an outcast. No more bouncing from house to house at the whim of people I don't know, and don't want to. Today, I would have ended everything, because nothing, felt real anymore. 
Walking down the dirt laden subway steps, i wait for a good opening, and sneak through the machine, closely following an old guy, and a little girl, probably his granddaughter, as to seem like I was part of their party. I walked over to a bench and sat down, taking a sip of my coffee, but even the thought that it would be my last, didn't make it taste any less crappy. I tossed it in the trash. The two a'clock train, that would be the one. I watch people walk around me, some in business suits, some in pajamas. All lost in their own little worlds of,

"I'm gonna be late!" Or

"crap! I forgot the keys!"

I sit, and wait, and listen as my stomach growls. Mine as well eat something nice before I die, I think to myself. I check the time, it's only eleven. I get up, and head for the sunny streets of New York City. The light outside is almost blinding, and I pull my baseball cap lower over my eyes. I decide what I want to eat, I finally decide on a cheese burger, some fries, and a vanilla shake. I take a seat in one of those classic green cushioned booths, and am greeted by the disheveled looking waitress, her long dirty blond hair is falling out of it's bun, and I can't help but notice the pain behind her plastered on smile. 

"What can I get you toady?"  She asks, her voice sounding strained, I put my order in, and before she leaves, I compliment her on her shoes, classic black and white converse, with little faded gold stars, that looked hand drawn. I figure I should at least do one nice thing today. She looks like she's about to cry. 

"Thank you. My niece made them for me." She says, her fingers shaking, as she clumsily stuffs her notepad into her apron, dropping her pen in the process. She leaves, and I wait.

When the food arrives, my stomach grumbles even louder at the smell. I practically inhale the burger, and wash it down with the shake. I just nibble on the French fries for a while, wondering if I would end up in heaven or not. I think probably not. I don't have the cleanest record. I might not even have a record at all, it was probably so stained, that they had to throw it out.