Nowhere to go

It was raining. I had nowhere to go now. It was just the logical progression of events. First my job, with a thank you, then my wife, with a sorry, and now my apartment, with a fuck you. A dirty stinking squatter, as they call me with such rage between their teeth. A tenant for years, not a problem, but as soon as you stop feeding the landlord's greedy pockets, you're the root of all evil on earth. Bastard. He could at least have chosen another day to throw my old bones out on the street.

I dragged my feet, wandering aimlessly in the rain, soaked to the skin. People gave me looks that were sometimes sympathetic, passersby not daring to imagine what misfortune would drive someone to carry a meager travel bag over their shoulder and walk around the city without a coat, and sometimes mean, the most bitter ones convinced that misfortune only happens to those who have brought it upon themselves, to those who deserve it. I could have defended myself, justified myself, “You don't know my life!”, “I was a good citizen!”, “I paid my taxes!”, “Do you think I enjoy this?”... But what was the point? They wouldn't like me any better, they wouldn't help me any more, they wouldn't understand my situation. So, sluggishly, my legs carried me along without knowing where I was going.

The colors of the city had faded to gray under the thick blanket of rain, and every light shining from a window seemed filled with comforting warmth, yet out of reach. The cobblestones made the raindrops run into streams. My feet splashed through dirty puddles full of pollution, trash, mud, dust, and regret. As I stared at my frozen toes, my first tears, swept away by the wind, burst out. What did I do so wrong?

All the pent-up frustration gushed out of my heart like a storm, distorting my face with pain, tightening my throat, tensing my muscles. I was pathetic. Standing alone in the cold, soaked, destroyed. In this downward spiral of misery, I thought about my family, my loved ones, their disappointment at my failures, the shame I felt at having messed up everything, the burden I was to them, the exhaustion I felt, the rage I felt towards those jerks who had thrown me away after squeezing me dry all these years without hesitation, the hatred I felt for being so useless.

You're useless, you're a failure, you have nothing, your place is in a corner, not too big, far away from others, so you can finally stop being a nuisance, because you won't have the guts to end it all.

My sobs were lost in the passing traffic. People crossed the street or turned their heads as they walked past me. Not a single “Are you okay?”. Not a single friendly gesture. All those eyes filled with judgments and assumptions about me, without even seeing me as a person. No one cares about my name or my life. I am nothing. I am just a weird, potentially dangerous madman, probably an alcoholic or a drug addict, or both, who smells bad, who stinks, who is more animal than human. “If I don't look at him, he won't ask me for anything. Besides, I don't have any change on me. I have my own problems too!” I felt surrounded. I could almost hear their voices, trying to play nice. "It's not my fault you're in this situation." Until the very last bits of this shitty life, I have to take the blame, I have to endure my pain in silence, I have to apologize for feeling defeated. I can't, I just can't. I can't take it anymore ! I HATE YOU! STOP THINKING YOU'RE BETTER THAN ME! STOP THINKING YOU HAVE THE RIGHT TO JUDGE ME! I AM INNOCENT. I AM A VICTIM. TOMORROW IT WILL BE YOU! I AM NOT A FREAK SHOW!

I started to run, oppressed, cornered, by those accusing eyes, by those people wrapped up in their nice puffer coats, by those umbrellas and jackets and boots and hoods well hidden from the rain. Everyone stepped aside, jostling each other, keeping their distance, careful not to touch the outcast! They might catch his bad luck, find themselves in his waterlogged shoes !

I raced through the streets, completely disoriented, searching for a place to hide that simply didn't exist. I just wanted to run away, to be somewhere else, anywhere but here. Far away from everyone else. After several minutes, completely out of breath, I didn't even know where I was anymore. The streets were unfamiliar. This city didn't know me, it had swallowed me up and spat me out after sucking out what little I had to offer. Now I was like a piece of tasteless chewing gum that you stick wherever you can, discreetly, hoping that no one will ever find it, that you can get rid of it. My heart was pounding. I didn't have the strength to do anything, not even to be angry or sad. I just wanted it to stop. Please. If a God, anyone, could make it all stop. I beg you. I can't take it anymore. I'm at my wits' end. Anyone, anything...

A short wet furry coat brushed against my hanging hand. A mass pressed against my leg. With teary eyes, it took me several seconds to understand. It was a small dog, shivering, frozen, skinny, homeless. With what little energy he had left, he had made the effort to show me his affection. "I saw you. I understand you," in its own way. A new wave of tears welled up. I fell to my knees and took it firmly in my arms. It snuggled up without fuss, as if aware of the full extent of my distress. I sniffed, cried, and gasped against it, like a child against its mother. My hands cupped its face, and I gazed into its bright sympathetic eyes. There was a moment of suspension. The ambient noise faded away. His mouth opened slightly, revealing its tongue and silly smile. I smiled back at it.

“Maybe you and I have nowhere to go... but... let’s go there together, yeah ?"­­