AUTHOR'S OTHER TITLES (16) A Message From God (Short Stories) From a runaway girl, inspiration from God? Possibly. [599 words] Cycle Of Street Life (Poetry) Life on the streets if you are not careful. [111 words] Dirty City (Short Stories) Abbie Angel is running, hiding in a concrete and glass jungle. [696 words] Dying For A Memory (Short Stories) When there is nothing left, what can you do? [228 words] Eastbound Wanderer (Short Stories) A runaway's Journey. [543 words] Forever Lost (Poetry) Poetry of the street people. [67 words] He And You (Poetry) Yin and Yang--we all have the good and the evil in life; sometimes it is evil that wins. [103 words] Hell's Gate (Short Stories) A sad story about a fire burning underground since 1962. [681 words] Hunger Moon (Poetry) Poem about what it is like to me hungry. [168 words] Lost Girl (Short Stories) A true story about a girl who ran away from home when she was 15 years old. It's about me. [1,526 words] Lost Girl 2 (Short Stories) More of my story being lost in a mean world. [619 words] Lost Girl 3 (Short Stories) Abbie Angel, 15, is still running. This might be my last entry for a while. [884 words] Magic Man (Short Stories) - [1,008 words] Night Zombies (Poetry) About the street people. [166 words] Pale Moon Of Christmas (Poetry) Abbie Angel, Runaway, is back again. [159 words] The Antichrist Of The Blue Moon (Short Stories) My name is Abbie and I am a runaway. I think I met the Antichrist and that is my story. [1,409 words]
Lost Christmas Abbie Angel
I was so cold today here in Cleveland. I had to get out of New York, a crowded city filled with loneliness. I found myself in Kingsbury Run that slashes across the east side of Cleveland like an ugly wound, ripped into the rugged land as if God Himself tried to gut the city. It is a barren wasteland covered with snow that hides the true ugliness of yellow newspapers, weeds, empty tin cans and battered old cars left to rust a slow, ugly death. Kingsbury Run reminds me of an open sore, festering with refuse and decay.
I made some money in New York singing on a street corner again, $43 for all day. I bought a box of fortune cookies for my dinner and two fortunes said I would come into money. Well, I prayed and prayed while I got away from Kingsbury Run. I found some coins in different pay phones and at a Laundromat, somebody left 75 cents in a dryer. I washed my other set of clothes I carry in an old backpack somebody threw out and changed in the Laundromat’s John. The girl working the counter asked if I was a runaway. She had purple hair, all kinds of nose rings and earrings, but she was nice. I told her I couldn’t live at home anymore. She said it was Christmas Eve and nobody should be alone. I lied, telling her I was living with my uncle Gerry. She reached in her purse and gave me $20, telling me I can pay her back some other time, can you believe it?
Well, I went to a cafe and ate and drank coffee, then I bought some helium balloons and went to a park on Brookpark Road in a place called Parma. It was cold, but me and dad use to let balloons go up in the sky and I remembered that. I bought a magic marker and wrote messages on the balloons to my dad. Maybe the angels will take them and give them to my dad in heaven.
Well, they are closing the library. I don’t know where I can sleep tonight. I will go to church and maybe hide there tonight. It is Christmas and I am having a bad time of it.
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"Hi, very very sad,hope its not you. it came over very well.good writing.Take care,D" -- Diana Venditti.
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