AllThatIsLeft
February 25th, 2009, 10:11 PM
While I rested warm in my bed, a girl froze underneath a car. While I drank hot tea in front of my television, a girl blew hot air at her purple fingers. While I took a hot shower, a girl trembled in the freezing snow. While I ate my hot meal, a girl searched the garbage for anything to eat. While I drank from my can of pop, a girl sipped on vodka to keep warm. This girl was homeless; all she had was a shredded jacket, and a filthy hat to cover her ears. This girl slept underneath cars, hoping to wake up the next morning. This girl starved for a piece of bread, while I refused to eat all my food. This girl shivered and wished for a blanket, when I pushed mine away because it was too warm. Every time I complained about the food being served, her hungry stomach growled for anything to process into her system. She had no friends, no family, no one to turn to. She had no home to return to when night fell; she was stuck in the snow in the middle the winter. She wished for a small room with a little heat, when I wished that I could leave the safety of my home. When I yelled at my mother for being too controlling, I prayed for independence, I considered leaving in the middle of the night, this girl cried for her family, prayed for a home, hoped to be able to feel her skin again. I felt selfish and ungrateful and spoiled and rotten (I was so lucky). She hoped to live, but really did not care if she died – she would see her family again. She trembled, she shivered, she shook: she was cold from within. While I didn’t care if my mother would be heartbroken if I left, she didn’t care if she lived.