Written by Johanna
The subway was in the state as it always was: caked with grime, mud and dust. Colorful street art and bubble letters covered the filthy walls. Disgusting. Absolutely revolting. Tara slipped her frozen hands into her weathered pockets. Her jacket was ripped, muddied, and torn, providing barely any protection against the harsh, icy winds of winter. Slowly, Tara rose to her feet, and started to walk towards the steps that lead up. She was shivering, and trying her best not to pass out from the lack of water. And fear.
It’s not any warmer down here either...
Tara was a very delicate, lonely little girl, who lived on the streets by herself. Call her whatever you want: An orphan runaway, a hobo, homeless girl, or just a filthy street rat. They were all the same to Tara. So you see, she had no family, and money was a big issue. She could have accepted the choice of an orphanage, but …. that didn’t seem as a good of an idea to her. She wanted to somehow get to her older sister who lived upstate. If she wanted to avoid the orphanage, she would have to stay hidden from the police, who are out looking for her. She was constantly running.
Running.
Running away from that horrid life, her horrid past. Why must a ten-year-old face so much at such a young age? Running towards hope, a better life. The strange thing is, that no matter how hard she tried, she never got there. No matter how much she ran, she never reached hope. Not once, ever. In fact, Tara wasn’t sure what this new “hope” even was. She wasn’t really sure if a new life was what she wanted. Maybe she just wanted her old one back. But she knew that couldn’t be possible. Her parents had died in a car crash.
Tara looked around her.
Maybe I could call this home.
Home was a place where someone stays, is it not? Well, to Tara it was. Before her parents died, she had thought that home was made up of people who love you. But what if you don’t have anyone who loves you? Does that mean you would be homeless? Homeless, possibly forever?
Still shivering as she walked, carefully observing her visible breath, something caught her eye. Nor was it shiny or very noticeable, so Tara wasn’t sure how she had seen it. As soon as she realized what it was, Tara was bolted with joy.
It’s a penny!
She picked it up. The cold penny stung her hand as she observed it more closely. A man on the front- she had forgotten his name- and… something on the back. Tara couldn’t really see what it was, for it was covered with grime. With nothing to do to spend her time, and with her thoughts about leaving the subway now on vacation, she flipped the penny to the front and paid attention to every detail on the penny.
Every detail…. Well the man has a beard, and I think I can see bars on the back, and the front...
Oh my Gosh!
Tara squinted at the penny as if her eyes had gone bad. She then dropped the coin in amazement, too shocked to pick it up. Her jaw fell open. The penny made a shushed clink sound as it fell to the ground.
You see, Tara was a poorly educated girl. Don’t get it in wrong, though. Tara was a very smart girl, and you know, she was good at problem solving and all that. But she had ran away from home, or the car crash scene and her parents had died when Tara was at age eight, so she was still in a fourth grade education. But she could still read, and knew her numbers. In fact, it was the numbers on the penny that had shocked her so. With her eyes still wide open with astonishment, Tara picked up the penny and looked once more at the front to make sure what she was seeing was correct. She even said them out loud. Her voice cracked out as she said so:
“Three- Three thousand fifteen. The year 3015.”
How could a penny be made on a day that hasn’t even existed yet? With those final words, Tara blacked out, (not exactly sure what from: hunger, thirst, or shock) the penny still tightly clutched in her hand. The penny still very tightly clutched in her hand.
“Hey! Back off man!”
Tara moaned- everything hurt. Her head was throbbing, her back was aching, and her bones felt like they had shattered. Despite the fact that Tara felt like she was in need of serious medical attention, she forced herself to sit up as her eyes were slowly drifting open. Semiconscious, Tara suddenly noticed that she had something wet, hard and small clutched in her hand, and a metallic smell was drenching it.
“Hey! Back up, or I’ll mess you up!”
It wasn’t until Tara had heard a scream that sounded almost… not human, when she finally noticed there was a fight going on.
Tara looked around. Everything was the same, same street art, same filt. All same. No fighting was in sight, but the commotion did sound pretty close.
“OK!! NOW THAT DOES IT!!!”
Scared, fully awake, and feeling panicky, Tara’s eyes shot open and she jumped up, ready to take off in the other direction.
Tara could hear herself breathing as she tried to find out where she was going to run. Tara sprinted up the stairs, which turned out to be the exact place she was supposed to run away from. There, standing right in front of her, were two, men. One of them was holding a bloodied knife.
Tara let out a terrified squeak, and ran out onto the streets. Tara wasn’t thinking then, so stupid decisions were expected. She ran to the police. The police.
Johanna is a 13 year old writer from Arkansas. She has over 30 stories and blurbs in her google drive. Her goal is to have 100 by the end of the year! Or maybe even 200... who knows!
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