When I woke up I decided I needed a job; and it was difficult to find a place that accepted a 17 year old. Eventually I found a convenience store, where I'd work about 20 hours a week and I'd be paid $8 an hour. I couldn't really complain at least I was earning money.
I started work the next day. I was there for four hours and then I had the rest of the day for myself. I wondered off and eventually was hungry so I looked in garbage cans and tried to look for food. I only found a few scraps...
Eventually I went back to my resting area and sat there for a moment thinking of how I would be able to support myself. I thought of a few ideas, like washing people’s car, helping people when they had a lot of bags in their hands, helping people cross streets... It all seemed like a good idea until reality slipped in. No one would trust a homeless person.
I decided I'd have to wait till Friday to get my paycheck for the week. Then I'd go to Wal-Mart or Target to get the cheapest paint supplies I could find.
Three days later and I got my paycheck, I felt pretty proud of myself. I got some paint and a decent meal, when I came back to my resting place I took some cardboard pieces and painted on them after I ate my meal. I painted the starry sky I saw last night that eased me into sleep. I put it to the side to dry and I started another one, a tree surrounded by fireflies. I let both paintings dry for a while. I looked at the sky and it seemed like I had an hour or two till the sun set.
Meanwhile I looked for old coats and blankets and brought them back to my resting spot where I made myself a bed. When I laid on the layers of coats and blankets I realized my back was tense because it was feeling a bit sore. I looked up, a navy blue sheet slowly covered the sky, the sun went to sleep while the moon brought it's star friends out to dance and shine. I smiled as the stars twinkled gently. I fell asleep and woke up in paradise.

I lost my job. People made too many complaints on my appearance and foul smell. So I decided to sell my various painting.
I was selling my paintings $3 each by a corner of a street not too far from my resting spot, a man was driving by and stopped to look at my painting.
" These painting are really beautiful, I'd love to buy one but I don't have money with me at the moment. " he said. " Oh, don't worry about that I'll be willing to trade if you're okay with that. " I replied cheerfully. He seemed pretty happy because his face lit up and he gestured me to stay and ran into his car. I started to wonder if he was ever going to come back when finally he returned, my eyes widened a bit. “Is that what I think it is?” I watched the item in his hand a little longer. He walked toward my direction and said, " Hey, I'll trade ya my guitar for your painting, deal? " I looked at him with tears in my eyes, I was so thankful. I’ve always loved music, I taught myself a little bit of the guitar when I was younger but I never got as far as I wanted… my parents had divorced at that time and since then I gave up on it. I happily accepted the perfect polished guitar, we traded and I walked back to my resting area and strummed the guitar. It made me so happy, my ears loved the sound of the guitar, I enjoyed the vibration I felt in my chest when I strummed all the strings. I decided I was going to accomplish my dream, and so I went to the library and after a few weeks I taught myself how to play the guitar; and soon I was already performing on the streets. I played a few popular songs and a few theme songs, even a few songs I've made myself.
One day I was performing all day, walking around and strumming my guitar. At the end of the day I sat down and was so drained, at least I had $30. I was satisfied with what I'd gotten. So I went to my resting area, cleared off the snow and fell asleep. 

I was having such a good dream when I woke up to three men screaming threats in my face “IF YOU MOVE OR SCREAM I WILL SHOOT YOU I SWEAR!” the man that screamed the loudest fixed a gun to my head,  they all seemed to yell at me but, one of the voices seemed so familiar. I was basically paralyzed by the shock. I just froze there staring at them, my heart was pounding. I guess my heart worked itself too much because I just passed out. The yells turned into nothing but a small whisper to my ear. 
I don’t know how long I’d been out but when my mind finally decided for myself and opened my eyes I looked around; a pit of fire I hadn't been feeling in a long time came back... everything that I’d earned, and worked with to keep me alive was gone. The painting, the guitar and my shoes. I only had a few coats and blankets. I sat up and checked myself, “I’m still in one piece… right?” From the feels of it, yes I was in one piece.
When I was done assuring myself I was still alive I decided I couldn't just stay here; I needed food and I needed to get out of this place, somewhere safer. So I sat up; when I made an attempt to get up something felt odd. I felt my legs giving in. I looked down and my feet looked fine, nothing was tied to them, so I assumed it was just from the shock. When I took a step forward I collapsed to the floor. “My feet! I can't feel my feet!” People turned and looked at me. Some picked up their phones, others just looked down upon me with disgusted faces. I took my shoes off and touched my feet, they were swollen, and completely pale. I couldn't feel a thing. I started to feel light headed, the sound of sirens off in the distance, then I saw white. That's all I saw for what seemed like forever. I didn't hear anything, or feel anything. And all of a sudden I woke up and saw a white ceiling. I mistook it for heaven. I also noticed I was nestled on a very cozy bed. I was so happy I sat up to look around, but I was held back by an arm. When I turned to look who it was, I saw a woman. She seemed like a nurse. I took a look around the room, chairs, more nurses, a window.
" W-what's going on? " I said confused.
The nurse held my hand and looked around the room as if waiting for someone else to give me an answer. I looked at the other nurses, and they opened their mouths, but not a single word came out. The nurses said nothing but when they looked at me, it was as if she spoke to me telepathically because I heard the word “feet”. I looked across my bed, my hand trembling like crazy as I reached for my feet. I felt nothing but a lump. My eyes opened wide, and a look of terror swept across my face. Thoughts raced my mind, " HOW WILL I WALK!? I CAN’T AFFORD TO PAY FOR SURGERY EITHER! " the nurses tried to calm me down, a doctor came in, white curtains covered my vision I passed out. Once more. 

I was in a coma for 2-3 months I was in limbo with the same dream, maybe “nightmare” would be a better word to describe this.
I was alone in a dark room, in fact the coldest room I’d ever been in. I would be tied to a chair, two men… one fixed a gun to my head, and I’d hear the click of the trigger being pulled. There was only one bullet in that gun. Every time just before the trigger was pulled, the man in front of me would kneel on his knees, hands held together and he’d apologize, every four clicks of the trigger, the bullet was finally released and sent flying into my head, and I’d be released from my physical body and watch the two men. At that moment I’d always realize that the man that sat on his knees across from me apologizing to me was the same man who stood behind me and shot me in the head, but they both ended up crying over my lifeless body, and blaming one another for shooting me. Not once had I realized that I was in the same nightmare. It was like a movie a child had just found, he/she will replay it over and over, and yet the characters still do the same things, still are clueless about the future that they had already discovered for the trillionth time. 

I was in the middle of my dream when I suddenly felt myself breathing, I could feel my arms were covered in what seemed like wires. A beeping noise woke my mind, and light opened my eyes. I didn’t mistake this room for heaven. I was far from believing I’d ever arrive there. I looked around, but I was held back by machines with wires for arms. Wilted flowers by my side, scattered chairs around the room and a window. Outside the window was a tree, which took up most of my view with its lively green leaves. I moved my arms as I tried to prop myself up on the bed my arm bumped a button, I looked to my right, with a note taped to it
“PRESS BUTTON FOR ASSISTANCE”
I pressed the button.
I looked to my left, and there was an envelope, I opened it gently, noticing the texture of the paper. Nested inside the envelope was a bill, with the total crossed out and replaced with a
“PAID” written across the numbers. I was so confused
As I was examining the paper’s texture I heard the door open. I looked up and heard some footsteps. A doctor and two nurses came in, they looked at me and hugged me. I was even more confused than before now.
“What’s going on?” I replied as I hugged the nurses back.
The Doctor checked my health
“You’re alive! It’s a miracle, you were so weak and fragile, but it seems like you’re healing with every waking second of this moment!”
I felt relieved by this but I couldn’t help myself and ask, “So… what about the bill? Who paid for it?”
“Oh, about that.” A nurse blurted out, “You see a young man not too far from your age came here and asked for you. In fact he was actually the only person that ever paid you visits; but on one of those visits he came in and paid for your bill, and since then we never saw of him.” the nurse paused for a second and sighed, “God knows what happened to him, hopefully he’s okay though.”
Suddenly I grew curious, “Who would visit me? And more especially, who would pay for such an expensive bill?”
Suddenly in the midst of my thoughts the door opens again and the sound of wheels rolling on the polished floor is heard, another nurse appears with a tray of food. In fact, heaps of food. The nurse’s smile was so bright the room seemed to have been light up. One of the other nurses clapped her hands and jumped in excitement. I on the other hand couldn’t help but smile. A smile was in fact overdue in my opinion, and I’d take every happy moment I can to smile.

The Doctor suggested I go to rehab, so I went. I had 4 days of rehab every week for 3 hours. The assistants there were pretty nice. They were very patient with me, and I appreciated that. One helper there in specific would always hug me; her name was April.
“Sometimes a hug makes everything better” she’d say after every hug. Out of everyone else that was there to help me, Something about April always brightened my day, she had stars in her eyes, her heart was pure with love and care, any word she spoke was sincere and beautiful. I felt the strong urge to ask her something I’d been wondering for so long.
“April” I hesitated, “How do you stay so happy, how can one person like you have the ability to brighten a room?”
Then she looked me in the eyes. Her eyes were softened with sadness all of a sudden. Then she told me.
“If I approached everything with sadness and pessimism, then that is what my mind would be full of, I try to stay as positive as I can. I welcome everything possible with open arms and a warm heart, other people’s happiness is what keeps me going.” tears filled her eyes and streaked her cheeks. She wiped them away quickly and I hugged her and said
“A hug makes everything better” I told her
Then we both ended up bursting in tears. Hugging one another tightly as we tried to understand each other’s pain.

The hospital offered me a home supported by the Government, it was a little cramped but it was better than spending my days on the streets. There was one bathroom, two bedrooms, a few closets. A living room, and a little empty spaced room I use as my office where all my creativity is unleashed. Here I was comfortable with cozy blankets, food, and best of all, privacy. How I longed for privacy, most of the time I’d go for days on end without sleep in the streets. The first few nights were strange to me, I was used to the hospital and its constant footsteps of nurses in the hallway, but here these nights were silent. The only noise I heard was the sound of cars driving down the street.
I was able to support myself a lot more than what I thought I could, I was satisfied with everything I had, but there was still something I had yet to figure out… who was the person that payed for my bill? And where could that person possible be at now? I tried not to get myself caught up in the thoughts, it was no use. I just hoped that whoever it was, they present themselves soon. 

I was in the grocery store, getting my food for the week when I heard my name. I turned around to meet the voice that called for me, and there in the midst of the busy bodies was a woman, completely still. She stood there. It was my Mother. She looked more worn out, her hair was gray and thin, her eyes were sunken. The clothes she wore seemed to weigh her down. I saw her eyeing my wheelchair, her eyes widened and she came rushing over, she dropped her bags and stood in front of me. I was speechless, what was I supposed to say? So much had happened since the day I ran away. She stroked my hair and started to cry a little, almost as if apologizing to me. But I couldn’t take it. Why now? After all this time, it’s been a little over a year since I’d seen her and now she cares?
“I’ve been looking for you this whole time, I thought your Brother might have killed you.” her voice was soft and soothing, but her words punched me in the guts.
“Why would he kill me?” I asked
“Well that day you dashed out the window he had threatened to kill you…” she paused “He’s in jail now… so you’re going to be safe, it’s better this way. He won’t bother us any more.”
Anger seeped into my stomach and filled my mouth with words I’d never dared to speak.
“He was never a bother to us! And no matter what, he’s not the last of my problems!” I yelled and swore, “If anything it’s all because of Father that we’re in this mess! Why would you even blame it on your own child!” I took in a deep breath and continued, “Haven’t you ever stopped and taken into consideration for just one second that none of this is your child’s fault but Father’s?” I could tell my Mother was seeing a side of me I myself didn’t know I had inside me. In the reflection of her eyes I saw myself. My eyes were filled with fire and pain. Words like venom, striking at her, every word I had just said was reality in her face. She’s never been the kind of person that likes to face reality. She’s always in her own world, or better yet… alone in her own solitude.
Her lips were sealed shut but they quivered. she didn’t say a word to me. Her charcoal eyes locked contact with mine. We stood there for a while. She broke the silence and opened her mouth slightly and said,
“Please forgive me, I-I don’t know what I was thinking…”
I snapped, as if I hadn’t already just yelled at her. I couldn’t help it. I had enough of this, all she does is beg for pity. And I’ve given her enough of that before.
“I’ll forgive you when you learn to be a Mother.”
And so I turned around and left her there, in her silence of shock. I should have apologized, or acknowledged the fact that she even tried looking for me. But I couldn’t and I didn’t.

It was around the middle of January, my mind was blank all day. Sitting at my table when questions lurked into my head. They held my hand and pulled me. I found myself driving to a jail, where I would visit my Brother. I didn’t plan what I was going to say, I didn’t even know if he was there.
Sure enough he was there, and we sat across each other, nothing but a table and some glass between us. Using nothing but a phone cord to communicate. He had the phone in his hand and waited impatiently as I picked mine up then said,
“There’s something I have to tell you.”
“What is that?”
“It wasn’t my fault”
“What do you mean?”
“They told me to do it, we were just being stupid, I swear.”
I was still very confused but his voice started to intensify, louder and louder.
“I didn’t think it’d go this far!” he hesitated and took a breath and looked me in the eyes.
“I was the man who pointed the gun at your head…” he closed his eyes shamefully and slammed his hands on the table. The guards looked at me for approval to take him away from me, but I signaled a “not yet” to them.
“I didn’t know my stupid actions would cause you to run away, and lose your feet.”
I was shocked, nothing was said. We sat there in silence for a few seconds. Until he confessed completely and told me the whole story with a silent voice.
“That same day, you were out for a good 3-5 hours. I walked around checking on you once in awhile until I realized you wouldn’t wake. I called for help on my phone and in a few minutes there was an ambulance, paramedics by your side and a stretcher. I overheard a little bit as I stood in hiding. They said something about frostbite, and they couldn’t get you to wake… I thought you had died! Then, for all I know it had just been two days and I was going insane. I had to figure out whether or not you were okay, so I went to the hospital, searched your name and found you. The nurses started to notice me and told me you had both feet amputated, and were in a coma. I started to feel guilty. I wanted to apologize to you, but you wouldn’t wake up. One day I found a bill at your side, I put it as my priority to get that bill paid off for you… and I was willing to do anything to repay you for my dumb actions. I stole from a few cars, sold the items and killed a man.” 
The last words hit me straight into the heart… he killed a man…
“Who did you kill?” I looked him in the eyes. The same eyes I had seen on the day of the incident, the same eyes in my dream. These eyes could not look me in the eyes, they were tearing up, but they were filled with fire and shame.
He took a deep breath,
“Turns out the old man was rich and living in luxury while we lived in a run down home.” he saw my confused face, “I killed father damn it, this whole time he abandoned us, and turned to a life in luxury, he had a nice house, big yard. Turns out his house isn’t out of state, he’s only 2 hours away.”
He explained all these things like nothing, as if it didn’t bother him that he killed our Father, I wasn’t fond with Father but the fact that he can just speak of this with no problem surprised me.
“I found a lot of valuables in that home, and from that I was able to pay your bill…” he trailed off, “but, the guilt got to me, I was wanted, and so I turned myself in.” he paused and added, “I deserve this, but I’m guessing Mother probably told you half of this stuff already-”
I interrupted him,
“I saw her a few weeks ago… in the grocery store, but it didn’t seem like the right time to...” I stopped at that moment
We stared at each other, I was familiarizing myself with his face.
Suddenly I heard the guard’s shuffle around and their heavy footsteps came closer, they grabbed my Brother by his arms and took him away, I was escorted outside the jail. It felt like a scene from a movie, two kids dragged apart from each other, both resisting… both helpless. I knew this wasn’t going to be the last time I see my Brother.
I saw my Brother every chance I got. With every visit I made we grew closer, our bond was stronger, I no longer saw him as a runaway alcoholic. He was my Brother, the man with feelings. The man with regret, fear and determination to fix himself. I made a promise to him one day, and I kept my word so after a few months I was able to bail him out. He had nowhere else to go, so I offered to share my home with him. He didn’t really have many belongings at all. Just a few pair of clothes, a phone, and a pair of shoes. I made space for him, my house felt small at that moment, but at the same time I felt happier. I helped him buy more clothes, and some furniture to decorate his room and I helped him find a job. He thanked me almost every day constantly, and to show his gratitude he would clean the house and cook meals whenever he could.

My Brother was cleaning the house while I was sitting in my office writing, he walked in and was mopping the floor. As he gets closer to me he looks over my shoulder
“Hey whatcha writing there?”
“Oh um I’m just writing about a memory..” I handed him the paper, he set down the mop and took the papers gently. His eyes scanned the paper, like they ate every word I wrote and craved for more.
“I like this,” he said as he handed it back to me, “You should show this to someone, this is really good.”
“Thanks.” I said, “I’ll take this into consideration.” but I knew the person I was going to share this with it was April.
I met her at a coffee shop, my Brother was across the street enjoying some snacks. I greeted her and gave her a hug. We talked for a bit before I took out the paper and showed it to her.
“Hey, I wrote this a while ago, and I think you might like this.” She took the paper and read it quietly to herself. When she finished she looked up at me, the stars in her eyes were still there.
“This is absolutely beautiful, have you ever thought of publishing your work?”
And that, is where I was motivated to follow my dreams, and so I did, and this brings us to present days.