A True Friend

April 3, 2019. The anniversary of my mother's death. I remember the day so clearly. I was only 11 and didn't understand how death worked, but at that moment when the sound of metal hitting her body rang through the street, my heart sunk into my chest. I knew that contrary to what everyone was saying, it was not going to be ok.

 After she passed away, my life only got worse. Although I had my Daniel (mom's husband, I refuse to call him a dad), he was never there for me. He never was, even when mom was still alive and breathing. To him, I was nothing but his mistress's son. He couldn't care less about us, so he left us in the slums while he lived his rich, exciting life with his perfect family. He didn't even come to the funeral, that's how little we meant to him. Her passing hadn't changed anything. Daniel left me alone in this small empty house, with no money or ways to fend for myself. I didn't give up as some would think, or go to the police. It's not like they would do anything anyway. I made it my goal to survive.

 Living alone at 11 was hard at first. I had to force myself to grow up quite quickly. Finding a job was easier than expected, as my neighbors hired me to do odd jobs around town and run errands for them. I only had the education of a middle schooler, so my nights were filled with endless hours of studying basic core subjects, also learning how money worked and what were the best ways to make it. Occasionally I would see the other kids getting off the school buses, running with their friends, and having fun, while I was off working and studying. Many times I wanted to give up. Oh, how I wanted to stop. To stop and be a kid again. To live a normal life. But that wasn't the reality in front of me. And I had to learn how to just deal with it

 Now I'm 15 years old, working as a construction worker. I make good money, at least enough to pay rent. It's also enough to pay my school tuition. School isn't anything they portray it to be. It's very quiet but they do give an abundance of homework. Other than that, no one bothers me, so I have no friends. I rather live like that. Friends only get in the way. This is my life. School, work, repeat. I've learned to accept it, and honestly, it's not too bad. Of course, at times I get lonely and wonder what it'd be like to go to a party and live my life. But those thoughts get overcrowded with all the other things going on in my life, and I never pay them a second mind.

******

 "HEY MELLI WAKE UP! THE RENT IS DUE TODAY YOU KNOW! I LET YOU OFF FOR A WHILE BUT I NEED THE MONEY OR YOU'RE OUT OF HERE!"

This is what I wake up to every 3rd Tuesday of every month. My landlord says the same thing every time but never follows up. Although I''m late with the rent every month, she lets me stay here, as long as I get the money to her anyways and I always do.

I opened the door to her annoyed face steaming with anger, as she stomped into my room.

 "I mean it this time boy! I'm putting my foot down this time! I have plenty of other people who'd pay even more to be in your spot and I''m not afraid to give it to them!"

 "Yes, yes, I'm aware of that fact. I'll get you your money, calm down. I always do, don't I?" I said with a wink, putting on my jacket as I got ready to go to school.

 "Hmmm that's right but one slip up and you're gone."

After feeling as though she'd made her point, she left, leaving me to think about how I was going to get the money. Work was going well, but recently there weren't as many jobs for us, which meant not a lot of pay.

  How was I going to pay for this month, and the ones to come?

Leaving that thought behind, I grabbed a bite of the bright red apple that my neighbors gave me and started my long walk to school.

 I waited in my homeroom class, sitting in the perfect window seat. The sun shone on me just right, making me not too warm but not too cold. Just right. My satisfaction was interrupted by my teacher's voice

 "Everyone, we have a new student joining us today, Yohan. Take a minute to introduce yourself Yohan."

Right when I looked at him, I could tell he was born from money. Everything about him screamed rich. His black hair slicked back, not one hair out of place. Even though we wore uniforms, he made it look brand name.

 "Hello, my name is Yohan Clem and I'm very excited to be here. I hope I can become friends with all of you in the future," he said, making his confidence shown with a bright smile while he talked. 

Of course, no one else in the class had ever seen someone with this much poise, and all eyes were on him, starstruck.

 Hmm looks like he's another one of those.

Disinterested, I looked away from his rich glow and back to the window. As he walked to his seat, I could feel his gaze on me, his piercing brown eyes staring at my every move. This went on all day; at lunch, in between classes, gym. It seemed like everywhere I went, he was there, staring at me. Finally, the school day ended and I started to pack up my things. I looked behind for a split second at Yohan's desk, to see if he was still there. Sure enough, he was, still watching me. Ignoring him, I continued to put my things away.

 I have to hurry up and get to work a little earlier today. I really don't want to get yelled at by the chief this time. I can't afford to lose this job.

 "What are you thinking so hard about Melli?"

Snapping out of it, I realized I was standing still looking at the wall, and in front of me was Yohan. 

 "Oh nothing, just thinking about the homework.."

 "Ahh ok."

There was an awkward silence as we stood there. 

 "So do you need something? I kinda need to hurry up and get to work."

 "Work? Why are you working at 15? Don't you have parents who make money, there's no need for you to do that."

Rage boiled inside of me.

 What would he know? He's rich and has no problems. He doesn't need to worry about money.

 "Just as I expected from someone like you," I scoffed.

 "What's that supposed to mean?" he said, a tone of frustration in his voice.

 "You're all the same! You rich people! You come into this school acting as if you own the place and we're all nothing compared to you! You've been looking down on me all day! You think I didn't notice your staring?! What, do you pity me or something? For working? Not all of us are born with a silver spoon in our mouths!" I said angrily.

Taken back, he stood there not saying anything. Before I gave him the chance to reply, I grabbed my bag and ran out of the school. 

 Out of breath, I plopped down on my small bed as soon as I got home, looking at the ceiling. Whenever I was upset, staring at the ceiling always seemed to calm me down.

  Ugh, I really shouldn't have blown up on him. Should I apologize? No, I doubt he cares. They all just care about themselves. I'm just a pebble under his foot after all. He doesn't deserve an apology. I should just stop worrying about this. I need to get to work before I'm late.

Sitting in my thoughts wasn't helping so I got up and left to get on an early start on my even longer walk to work. 

 The route I take makes it harder to get to my job since it cuts through the richer neighborhoods. The streets are always busy with people coming from and to work. When I reached the crossroads between the neighborhoods, you could see the very clear difference between the two. They had huge, shiny mansions worth millions, while we had small, rundown apartments. They wore fancy suits and brand name clothing, while we wore clothes from thrift stores. 

 Ugh, I hate coming down here. They always look weirdly at me.

Every time I come here, they look at me like I'm a disgusting roach in a clean, pristine restaurant. They even go out of their ways to stay away from me like I'm an infectious disease. This time was the same as always. Ignoring their stares, I continued on my trek. Something caught my eye as I was walking, something out of place, like me. A small boy was sitting in an alleyway, in a crouched down position. He wore a black hoodie that covered his head, which was buried into his arms. 

 What is he doing here? doesn't he know we're not supposed to loiter around here? They'll call the police on us.

That was very true. One time, when I first started working, I walked through the streets, standing out like a sore thumb and went up to people asking for directions. They ignored me, and someone once reported me to the police for just being there. I walked over to the boy, standing over him. It sounded like he was crying. At the moment, all eyes were on us. I wasn't thinking about their disgusted stares, I was only thinking about the boy. 

 "Hey...are you ok?"

He whipped his head quickly, probably surprised that anyone had gone out of their way to say something to him. Imagine my surprise when I saw these piercing brown eyes full of tears and black hair coming out under his hoodie in messy strands.

 "Yohan?"

 "Is that you?"

 Shouldn't he be in his big home being waited on? Why is he here crying in an alleyway instead?

He stared at me with his sad eyes, it looked like he had been crying for a while.

 "What are you doing here?"

No reply. 

 "Hey answer me."

No reply.

 "Ok if you're not going to answer me, I'm going to leave. Some of us actually have jobs to do."

 "Wait!" he shouted, grabbing onto my jacket. "Please don't go." His eyes screamed desperation.

 What should I do? He looks really upset. Should I do something? No, no I shouldn't. What kind of problems could a rich boy like him even have? Did he not get what he wanted and decided to have a tantrum and "run away"? He doesn't need my help."

 "Nope sorry, I have to get to work. Have fun finding your way home."

I turned around and started to walk again when I heard Yohan say something.

 "I ran away. Dad looked really angry this time and I didn't want to get hit again. I know it's my fault he's angry, that I'm not good enough. So if he has to hit me out of frustration I'm ok with that, but I really needed a break today," Yohan said quietly.

I stopped in my tracks and turned back to him. He was gazing at nothing, tears rolling down his face.

 "Hit you?"

I walked back over and sat next to him.

 "Yes, he hits me sometimes. It's my fault that he's like this. It's just really hard sometimes." He started sobbing again.

 "It's my fault my brother died. If I had just worked a little bit harder, he wouldn't have had to tutor me that night. Then he never would've been hit by that car."

 Woah that's deep. I thought these kinds of problems never happened to rich people. Don't they have happy lives? They have money, what else could they need?

 "That wasn't your fault. I used to think my mom's death was my fault too, but it's not. We didn't do anything. Anything could've happened if we were there or not. So stop blaming yourself. And your dad's anger isn't a reason for him to hit you. No parent should ever do that to their kid."

There was a silence again, while Yohan calmed down and stopped crying. 

 "You wanna know why I was watching you all day? Because you looked happy. So carefree. When I walked into the classroom, everyone was looking at me, judging me, waiting for me to make a mistake. But you...you didn't even care. You looked out the window like everything outside of it was the most amazing thing you'd ever seen. I wished I could be like that," he said.

 "Yohan, if you knew the things I'm thinking about you'd be surprised," I scoffed. "I'm always worrying about how I'm going to pay rent or the light bill, or how if I'm even going to eat. I don't expect you to understand but I live with the fear that anything could happen, and I could end up homeless or worse. My mom died when I was 11, and her ex, Daniel, left us so I lived alone for the rest of my life. Daniel was rich so that's probably why I hate rich people now, so I'm sorry about blowing up at you."

 "It's fine. If you have all these things to worry about, why do pretend that you're ok?"

 "Why do you?"

We sat there for a couple more minutes without talking. 

"Daniel...you mean Daniel Escobar?" he said.

"Yeah, why? Do you know him?"

"Everyone does. He was very wealthy and successful but around 2004 or 5, he got really crazy. Rumor says he got into a deep depression, which caused him to lose everything. His money, his family, and even his sanity."

2004? That's around the time mom died. Maybe...he did care? Maybe we meant more to him than I thought.

More silence.

 "You're the only person I've told about this," he said. 

 "Same for me. I always wished I could find someone who I could talk about these things with."

 "Well now you have me!" he said with a smile. 

 "Yeah I guess I do," I said, smiling back. 

This was the moment I knew I finally had someone who wouldn't give up on me. A true friend.