LEAVE TEAR DROPS EVERYWHERE
So almost all of you know that I've been working on a new story. And since I would really like some feedback on this, I'ma put it up here! (Cause I think it's already on DA and I would like it here too XD ) So here's the first chapter!
Second Heart Attack.
Chapter 0
“Le Peu A Perdu Garçon”
“Once upon a time, there lived a young couple who had taken the dive into parenthood. They had tried tirelessly to conceive, but time and time again, they failed to produce an heir. After growing up a bit, they had decided that it was time to try again. Though their relationship had become strained, they kept trying to get their bundle of joy. That christmas eve, Gautier Valentin Devereux was born.
As little Gautier grew bigger, so did the problems between the once loving couple. Daddy soon began to drink heavily, and Mommy began to neglect Gautier. In hopes of mending their behavior around their son, the couple moved to the United states, leaving their homeland of France, behind.
The family greeted the lady of liberty, and moved to the city of dreams. The city of dreams soon became the city of corruption as both Mommy and Daddy began to stray from their spouse. They soon decided it was time to part from each other’s side, leaving Gautier to pick up the broken pieces of their happy life. Four years later both ‘Mother’ and ‘Father’ lead happy lives as their only son lives on the streets of the once glittering city of Los Angeles.
Though they had broken apart their marriage, they still cared for their only son.”
“Pas encore...” The story played over and over in his dreams at night, even so long after the fact. The sun had only set a few hours prior, and his attempt to sleep soundly had been cut off by the twisted fairy tale that was his life. Gautier Valentin Devereux had been living out his life on the streets where he had run to, looking for refuge. As he rolled off the cardboard he called bed, he began to look around.
He hated to admit it, but he missed having his parents together, even if that made him selfish. When he was with them, he didn’t have to worry about when his next meal might come in the form of freganism, and when he would be able to wash his hair. Most of all he missed being able to call a place his home, where he had a ‘happy’ family that ‘loved’ him. But even if he missed these things, he refused to go to ask for help from his parents. It was not part of his hardened chemistry to ask for help when neither of them could to save their marriage.
Even with these trials placed upon him from the higher ups, he had only really traded in one thing. And though he had given away his innocence and in return, he was given his cold thoughts and habits. Though he only had his parents to fight with when he first ran away, he now had no one, and wished he hadn’t lost all of his otherworldly charm. All he had now was his french accent, and his few scattered belongings.
Since he could no longer try to sleep with the thoughts of his elders parading in his mind, he knew it was time to get up and raid the trash cans. He had gotten almost all of his clothes from the dumpsters, along with all of his spaced out meals. As he walked out of the alleyway where he had slept for only a small portion of the night, he realized how late it was. There were a very small amount of people on the streets with him, so his ripped and torn clothing stuck out next to the glossy night life hipsters.
He couldn’t help but envy their lives as he walked by them, chains and gold glittering under the street lamps. Their lives were uncomplicated, remorseless and carefree, just what he wanted. But there was one thing they had that he couldn’t ever deal with. Unwanted attention, unnecessary dramatics, and constant lifestyle changes. Upon further inspection, his life seemed easy. He didn’t have to worry about how his hair looked before going out, or what he was going to wear to that upcoming fashion show. All he had to do was sleep where the cops wouldn’t check, and eat only when he really needed to. Still, he wished his life was just like their fairytale. Happy.
After walking by the squealing girls and ignoring their stabs at his attire, he came upon an open garbage can tucked away out of view. This was his failsafe can. If he knew he couldn’t get that far without being stopped by the police, he went to this spot. Since it was right next to a small chinese restaurant, which always had a surplus of food, he could pick out what food looked most appetizing. Being on the streets for so long numbs expectations of grander, and Gautier was no exception to that rule. He had to learn the hard way that food wasn’t presented on a golden platter, but rather on a rotten plastic bag.
As he tried to pick out a piece of what looked like chicken, he heard a slow ‘whoop whoop’ That sound was not the one he wanted to hear. Gautier was no stranger to the police, and he was not about to go to the pound again. As he turned to run, his leg caught onto the lid of the trash can, causing him to fall, hard onto the cement. They laughed at him, just like everyone else did. A man who had nothing but himself, and even that wasn’t good enough for these people.
“Sir, you can’t run like that again. We’re just taking you somewhere for the night so you can sleep. Mike help me out.” Though his voice dripped with kindness, the laugh stuck in the air.
“Get off me. I can help myself up.” Sarcasm was his only weapon against them. He had no choice but to follow them to their car, where they would surely take him to jail, just for trying to get food. In the car they drove by his alley, which made him speak again. “Stop here... Please. I need my belongings...” He found it hard to speak to other people like him, let alone average people who led normal lives.
They let him out and escorted him to his hidden spot. The area around his bed was filled with his few menial possessions; his Fluer De Lis scarf, torn, ripped and still loved more than anything, and his baby pictures he kept in a leather case. He put everything into the knapsack he used when he moved around, and followed the cops back.
The party was over for Gautier, and he knew he would be spending the next couple of years in jail for no real reason. The two cops infront in the front of the car knew that too. His life was officially at the point of no return, and it was his fault. He could have chosen to ignore his growling stomach, but he had decided it against his better judgement.
Gautier kept his head down, his dyed hair covering his face. The blonde roots contrasting with the rest of his ratty mane. His head hit the barrier in the car as the car stopped.
“Here’s where we let you out.” The kind cop was the one to speak again, and his voice seemed too kind. As Gautier got his few things ready, he looked up at the building he would soon be spending his life in. It wasn’t the cold police station he though it would be.
“Ceci n'est pas... Jail...?” His french had kicked in before he could stop himself. It was a normal occurance, the french accent he longed to maintain on a constant basis leaked into his translated conversations. The cops noticed the genuine shock on Gautier’s face. They got out and walked him to the doors of his new home, Hope’s Homeless Shelter.
That's all! I hope you guys liked that! I worked really hard on it D: !
BADKARMA'S DREAMS ARE BURSTING AT THE SEAMS
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restless
bouncy
shocked