Semaphore

1. Awake

'See sweetie? this is why you need to pay attention while you're in class' i hear in the strict and high-pitched voice of a middle aged woman. I assume she's talking to her child, but still open my eyes just to make sure. As I slightly squint my eyes due to the burning sunlight and look in the direction where the sound came from I notice a tall, slender, judgy woman pointing at me while she holds her daughter's arm tightly, as if I was going to attack or something like that. As much as it annoys me I just roll my eyes, let it slide and process the fact that I was awake now. It was a miracle I even fell asleep in the first place to be honest. Yesterday it was raining and colder than the days before. My clothes were cold and sticky as my hair covered my eyes, my eyelashes clumped together due to the water. And the fact that the only place not covered in water, underneath the bridge, had those bullshit hostile architecture spikes on it didn't help. So I ended up sleeping against a cold metal bench in the middle of Canal street. There was some grass growing in between some of the tiles so if you have a very big imagination I guess it's almost like a sofa. Too bad my imagination abandoned me together with all the others.

As I watch the woman and her daughter walk away I decide to finally get up and see if I can find myself some decently fresh food, or maybe even money. I arch my back slightly, trying to get rid of the pain and uncomfort in my spine, before looking down at the watch that Rohan had given me. As I look at the watch I feel my breath hitch. The watch slowly starts looking more and more blurry as tears collect in the bottom of my eyes. Images start flashing through my head even though i don't want them to.

Images of Rohan laying on the dirty ground with his throat cut open, a blood stain in the pavement his lifeless body was laying on while sirens hollered in the background. But even though I had heard the sound of multiple police cars in the background, I knew it didn't matter. Police couldn't care less about homeless people.

Rohan has a, back then nine, now about ten year old daughter called Devi Korrapati. Every single morning he would buy a single Lilly for her with the money he had managed to collect. And every single night he would sob, hating himself for not being able to give her more. Sometimes when he didn't have enough money to buy her a flower I would steal one for him. It was a win-win situation. He would be able to make his daughter smile and I would have a reason to wake up in the morning.

I still remember the day he gave me the watch. I still remember how I am the reason he's dead. I had been talking to him about wanting a watch after reading a few pages from a magazine I found laying next to a trash bag, showing him pictures and talking about all the different color options there were. 'I really want the silver one' i remember myself saying. Why couldn't i just keep my mouth shut. While I was asking people for money, Rohan had apparently seen a guy wearing the watch I had talked about that morning, and stolen it, wanting to gift it to me. However there are some people you shouldn't steal from. That same night when i came back to share some of my money with him I saw him lying on the pavement with his mouth open, tear stains on his cheek, and blood gushing out of the deep cut in his throat.

I take a deep breath as I try to snap out of my depressive and exhausted state, before starting to walk. People have just started putting up markets on the streets again to sell the things they made. Fruits, jewellery, vegetables; not much but pretty easy to steal and enough to keep me breathing. Even though i'm starting to doubt wether i even want to at this point.