Eyes Are Getting Heavy (Open)

[dustyn james harrison]

Dusty was sick.

He didn't know what he'd caught. Whatever was going around, he supposed. He was angry, though. Up until now, his immune system had been brilliant. It was what allowed him to live without money or health insurance for so long. How could it have let him down now?

He could barely keep his eyes open. At school, he'd fought the illness the best that he could so that it wouldn't be noticed. The last thing that he needed was to be sent "home" to rest; he needed the warmth and protection from the elements that being at school provided.

Now, however, it was the weekend. He had two whole days and three whole nights to survive. He couldn't work this weekend because he was so sick, which meant that he really needed to be scrimping on the money he spent, or he'd spend next week hungry... and he didn't know how long his illness would last.

He couldn't afford medicine, that was for sure. Medicine was way too expensive. Orange juice, Dusty told himself. He could afford orange juice, though. He pushed himself up off of the ground, forcing the exhaustion from his eyes. Orange juice. Dunkin' Donuts. Go.

He stumbled towards town. His bum leg was killing him. His cane, which he'd left beneath a park bench two nights ago, had been stolen. He was betting on some idiot little kid who thought it was a cool trinket. In any case, he was forced to drag himself from place to place, holding onto trees and walls when the opportunity arose. By the time he made it into town, he was shaking.

He pushed open the door to Dunkin Donuts and stared unseeingly at the menu. Could he afford food? He needed food, but would his need be greater tomorrow than it was today? Sighing, he stepped up and bought an orange juice. Nothing else.

He collapsed onto a booth, resting his head in the crux of his arms. Lights seemed to blink behind his eyes. He lifted his swollen head enough to take a sip of orange juice, and then it fell again.

Tired. Dusty was tired.

[sephiran mckenzie kain]

It wasn't that Sephiran hated doughnuts, she liked the idea of doughnuts more that the doughnuts themselves. Another thing that she disliked was people who she liked to call jejemon. People who spelled things wrong on purpose, like people who spelled doughnuts without the ugh, or people who used the number four in campaigning, "Food 4 Forests!" Those were the people she seriously could shoot in the face and not think twice. It wasn't that Phira was mean or anything, She was obsessive compulsive and everything just had to be right. People called her wicked smart and she was surely on her way to becoming valedictorian, but only because she could not do something the wrong way.

She shoved her hands absentmindedly into the pockets on her jeans and walked towards the doughnut shop. Sephiran loved her coffee as much as the next girl and to her disappointment the Starbucks near her place just chose to to redecorate today. The blond let out a sigh as she pushed the door to Dunkin' Donuts open, just the smell of the place made her want to turn around and step back outside, beyond the walls that were apparently made of pure diabetes. She felt although she could fall into a diabetic coma by just being in this place for more than a minute. And she was far from diabetic.

Phira walked up to the line forming at the counter, tapping her foot impatiently at the people in front of her. She normally wasn't a very impatient person but she would much rather be anywhere else. Spehiran smiled as the people in line eyed her, and her tapping foot, angrily. It was a killer ten minutes until she finally reached the counter, she could have sworn that the man infront of her couldn't make his mind on purpose in spite of her. As annoying as that was it was also quite hilarious to the young girl.

After getting her small coffee she walked over to the small concession counter and fixed it, that was another reason that she hated this damned shop. Coffee was black, of course it only took thirty seconds to make but quality was much better than quantity. She would much rather wait six minute at Starbucks than thirty seconds at this dump. She liked her coffee with a little sugar and three teaspoons of creme, this place obviously didn't have any sort of measurement so she had to estimate. Upon finishing she took a sip, she shuttered, it was still gross.

Sephiran had turned to leave when she spotted a boy at the table nearest to her. He didn't seem like he was in the best of moods, She wasn't mean, she did care about people. Phira felt although she had gained fifteen pounds just being in here but what was a few more, if not only for a few more minutes. She slid into the other side of the booth, not really caring if he wanted her company or not. It's not like she would move anyway. "Today not the best, huh?" she asked in her soft voice.

[dustyn james harrison]

Dusty blinked in surprise as a pale blonde girl slid into the booth across from him. He hadn’t been expecting company, and was searching his foggy mind, trying to figure out if he was supposed to know her from somewhere. He sincerely hoped not, because he was coming up blank. So focused was he in his musings that he barely registered the question she asked him. When he did, he gave a wane smile.

“I’ve had better,” he said, his voice sounding hoarser than he expected it to. Is it mono? he wondered idly.

He eyed the girl shrewdly, trying to decide if it was worth it to complain about her. My parents went away for the weekend, but they forgot to leave me money he could whine. Or, perhaps, Someone stole my wallet.

In the end, he decided against it. As tempting as it was to try and con her into giving him a bit of food, it wasn’t worth it. She very likely went to his school, and the last thing that he wanted was for rumors to start circulating about him at school, begging money on weekends. He didn’t need to draw any attention to himself. He hadn’t lived on his own this long by drawing attention to himself.

“I have a cold or something,” he said instead, the same tired smile toying with his lips.

It was true, at least. Besides, she could tell that much just by listening to him speak and observing the redness of his nose. The cold wasn't the only thing that had him in a miserable mood, of course, but it should be enough to placate her.

[sephiran mckenzie kain]

Sephiran tapped the small bit of fingernails that she had rhythmically on the table beneath her hand. It was soft and just something that she liked to do when focusing. Most would probably call Phira a pain in the ass, and that was true, but she was also and acquired taste. Just as a few of her closest friends, you grow to love her little quirks and her encrypted speech. Phira gave the boy a nod in agreement, it didn’t seem like today was one of his best. And if it was, well she would have felt real sorry for the kid. Phira had this thing about calling anyone younger than herself a kid, or a sweetheart, or any other pet name. Which was another thing that got on most people’s nerves.

“I‘d hope so,” she said lifting her coffee to her pinked lips. Sephiran, obsessed with eye make up actually didn’t wear anything on her lips. She thought that it was a waste of time plus it was so sticky and looked horrid in the wrong lighting. Don’t get her wrong, Phira was the last person to care about what other people thought about her, but it didn’t mean that she didn’t like to look nice. She wasn’t model material but she was an attractive girl and knew it.

A smile spread on the young girls lips, she was getting a good vibe from this boy. The fact that he looked horrible yet still managed a smile for her was endearing. “You know what’s good for a cold?” she asked, “Chicken noodle soup, well, without the chicken. Or the noodles.” She answered her brow furrowing slightly. “You kind of strike me as the vegetable beef sort soup person am I right?” she asked, this time actually looking for an answer from the boy.

[dustyn james harrison]

Dusty smiled again when the girl across from him said that she hoped that he had a cold. It sounded like a wretched thing to say, but he understood what she meant. Because if he didn't have a cold, that would really suck, because it would mean that he was miserable and disgusting all the time. Who wanted that?

He wanted to laugh when she said that he should have chicken noodle soup without chicken or noodles. What, she just liked broth? He preferred a bit more substance than that--although, of course, he would take chicken broth over nothing at all. Who wouldn't?

He nodded when she asked him if he was more of a vegetable-beef sort of person. That definitely had more substance than chicken noodle. Beef, green beans, potatoes... delicious. He'd never really been a huge fan of chicken noodle soup anyway. It looked gross.

"When I was a real little kid," Dusty said, "my mum used to give me grilled cheese sandwitches and ginger ale whenever I got sick. She'd put ham in the grilled cheese so it tasted super good. That's my favorite."

He hadn't had it in years. When his mum left, there was no one around to make it for him any more. He'd taken to making it for Hailey whenever she got sick, but she had never made it for him. Generally speaking, Hailey would go spend some time at the neighbor's house whenever Dusty was sick, or she hid in her room and Dusty told his grandfather that she was at the neighbor's. In either case, she wasn't around much.

"My name's Dusty, by the way," he said quietly. "Well, Dustyn, actually. Dustyn Harrison. But I go by Dusty."

The nickname suited him, considering how often he had the luxury of taking a real bath, but he'd had it long before he lived on the streets. Hailey had called him Dusty when they were little kids--for some reason, she found the 'n' sound near impossible to master--and the name had stuck. He'd gotten to the point where he rather liked to be called Dusty. It was a part of who he was, a part of what made him him.

[sephiran mckenzie kain]

Phira smiled back at the boy. There was just something about him that sort of canceled out her want to escape this sugar comatic environment. She gave an approving nod at his confirmation of her suspicions. She herself was the same way, she loathed chicken noodle soup and it false advertising. All over the internet and on the televisions, chicken noodle soup helps aid you in a time of sickness. Wrongo. It just made the girl more sick, unlike vegetable soup. it’s peaceful community of beef mixed with the perfect percentage of black eyed peas, carrots and pin beans. Sephiran always went for the chunky kind, it was a man’s soup the label said, thought she could really not care any less.

Sephiran liked his little story, it almost made her jealous. “That’s cute,” she replied. “I wish I could say something like that but my life was probably much worse. I grew up with an alcoholic father, and my mother died during my birth, at fourteen I was kicked out and had to fend for myself. I wish I could have had a grilled cheese with ham” she said with a teasing smirk. Sephiran left out the part where her father would beat her or her struggles during the time it took her to get a job, but she assumed her would get the picture. Sephiran was an open person, and her main belief was that if it doesn’t kill you it made you stronger. And that was the truth, just look at her now. Eighteen years old, her own two bedroom apartment, and star bucks every morning. Life could get no sweeter.

Sephiran smiled at the boy, “Dusty eh?” she asked just for the opportunity to say it herself. “I haven’t heard that name before.” she said with another small smile. She would have extended her hand to shake his but he didn’t seem to be in the mood for moving. “Well its nice to meet you Dusyn Harrison, my name is Sephiran (seh•fear•in) Kain, though you can call me Phira if you like”

[dustyn james harrison]

Dusty's eyes widened in surprise when he heard Phira talk about her life. It sounded just like his life, quite frankly, though he couldn't believe that she was talking about it out loud so casually. The idea that her life was worse than his made him almost want to laugh, because really, they were one in the same, weren't they? And suddenly, he wanted someone to know. Real bad.

"Wanna know a secret?" Dusty asked, leaning forward slightly. "My mum left when my little sister was born. I was barely more'n a toddler. After that, my life wasn't so quaint. My da' took to the bottle and moved the three of us in with my grandfather. He... wasn't really a nice guy. My little sister ran off when I was twelve, and then I was kicked out for not keeping track of her. So you and me? We're the same."

The same, but he was younger. Two years younger than her when he was kicked out. He was only fourteen now, and he'd been living on the streets for the past two years. Now he was especially glad that he hadn't bargained with her for money. If she was like him, she didn't have any money to give.

He was nervous that he'd said so much. He'd never told anyone the whole story, except Hailey, and she would have known it even if he hadn't said anything. She'd grown up alongside him. He was nervous that Phira would tell. Was she telling the truth about her own life? Maybe she'd suspected that he was a street kid and was trying to win his trust. He picked absently at a scar on his wrist, eyeing her, wondering what was going to happen now that she knew his darkest secret.

[sephiran mckenzie kain]

Sephiran listened intently at what he had to say. Wow, they had more in common than she had thought. It was surprising what you could learn if you just sat and was yourself. Phira felt for the boy, it was hard enough for her to make it at fourteen and here he was on the street since he was twelve. He must have been a smart kid. That was a good thing, no one could make it long on the street without being smart.

Sephiran lifted her hand placed it on his, she really did feel for him. She took off her hand a few seconds later returning it to the place on the table where they had just been. She Lifted up her coffee and took another small drink of it. “Once you hit rock bottom you can only get up, what doesn‘t kill you makes you stronger” She said, “That was how I got through it and I’m living the good life now.” She said with a smile. She let a few moments pass then looked at the boy again, “Where are you staying tonight?” She asked

[dustyn james harrison]

Dusty swallowed hard when Phira put her hand on his. He wasn't used to physical contact, except with Hailey, and he hadn't seen her in person for years. It was okay with Phira, though, he decided. She came from a similar place as him, and he felt that her hand was there as a symbol of compassion and empathy. Nothing more.

He grinned when she said that she was living the good life now, leaning back a little bit. "The good life, huh? How'd that happen?"

He didn't know if it was any of his business, really, and he half-thought that she wouldn't tell him how she had come by the good life, but he hoped that she would. In a way, it would be like hearing a fairy-tale. It would be something to give him hope on cold nights.

He twitched when she asked where he was staying tonight, wondering again at her concern, and then he shrugged. In for a penny...

"There's a clearing in the woods just outside town that I usually crash in," he said, "or I crash under the gazebo in the park."

[sephiran mckenzie kain]

The senior noticed how iffy that he got when she touched his hand. She knew the feeling. It was hard for her to get used to being around people when she was younger. She didn’t trust anyone either, Sephiran’s only worry was Sephiran. She wasn’t like him, she wouldn’t have spent time in the stores. She went around her old neighbor hood, chatting up with neighbors and eventually it would lead to her asking if they needed any lawn work or babysitting done.

Personally she enjoyed babysitting more, not because she liked kids. Oh no, she didn’t have the patience for adults let alone small kids. But she could spend the evening believing that she wasn’t Sephiran McKenzie Kain, but she was Mrs. Watson, or Tobi Deveraux, someone had something to live for. During her time on the street, she got depressed easily but for her it was easy to fix. If she focused on one thing, say earning money, then all of the other things grew smaller in importance.

Phira smiled back at the boy, “Well it was and easy concept but a trivial drudgery.” she answered then reached up and brushed her blond hair from in front of her eyes. “I stayed where ever I could, and found small jobs that was easy for a fourteen or fifteen year old. Yard work, babysitting, though I never stooped low enough that I had to collect cans. I might of not had a place to stay, but I didn‘t want people to know it. That was the tell-tale sign.” she said. “And I saved it up until I had enough to stay in a hotel for a few weeks, and then tried getting a real job. I worked my way all the way up to where I am right now.” she finished.

Phira was a very open person. If it was the right conversation, she could keep at it for quite sometime. She hoped that what ever she said to the boy stuck with him. When she was fourteen, she was frightened about her abrupt entrance into the cold, hard world. She could have hoped to have someone tell her how to do everything. How not to get on the wrong person’s bad side, how to keep up a job and a façade in school. It was tough but she managed.

Sephy could tell that it was a hard subject for him to talk about, It was a hard subject for her to talk about when it was happening for her as well. But sometimes like was uncomfortable, and you had to do what you had to. If it was beneficial to you, but it was uncomfortable, you just had to do it. It might have been strange for thirty seconds but it could the difference between being in the wrong place at the wrong time and getting shot.

She nodded, those places were familiar. She had stayed in the park before, but it was too scary of a place for her to stay there for extended periods of time. There was too much action there, night crawlers, are what she called them. People who stalked the park at night, teenagers who let the metal make and eerie sound as the swung. She hated those people.

Sephiran grabbed one of the ‘How did we do?’ comment cards and flipped it over. She jotted down her address and folded it in half. She held it in her hand, “Well here,” she said handing him the folded card. “That is my address. I have an extra bedroom in my apartment and a life time supply of hot pockets. If you need a place my house is open. It‘s not a hand out, just think of it as a lifeline. An endless lifeline of hot pocket-y goodness” she said with a smile.

[dustyn james harrison]

Dusty nodded when she said that she used to do odd jobs to earn money. Hadn't he been doing the same thing since he got on the streets? He'd never managed to save money, though, he realized. He spent his money--on food, and warmer clothing, and school supplies. And at that rate, he'd never do what she did and get his own apartment.

He could get a job, though. Next year, when he was fifteen and old enough to acquire a work permit, he could get a job. He wasn't worried about getting the work permit itself. His grades were good; there was no reason for the school to deny him the right to work. As for getting the job... Well, there had to be someone willing to hire a hard-working kid like Dusty. He had personal references up the wazoo. He might not like to be noticed by people, but he did have people he did work for on a fairly regular basis, and he worked his butt off for them.

It was possible to save money, though, Dusty thought, looking at Phira. She obviously had. And she had been fourteen when she hit the streets--the same age that he was now. It was possible. He pushed away the thought that he'd been on the streets too long and was damaged goods by now. He would work hard. He'd build himself up the way that she had. He would make a name for himself.

"I'll get there," Dusty told her, pulling on the collar of his t-shirt. "I know I don't look like much, but I'll get there. I'm not like those people on the streets who stand around asking for handouts when they could be working. I want to work. I do the things that you talked about--yard work, lawn mowing, babysitting. I work my ass off... cuz that's all you can do, right? If you stop working, you're giving up."

He blinked as she pressed a card into his hand. Her address. She was offering him a lifeline, as she had said. It was more than he had ever dreamed of... and his first instinct was to object, to push it away, to tell her that he could figure it out himself. He struggled, trying to get himself to say as much, but he couldn't. His pride was great, but his need was greater. What she was offering him was... perfect. It was just what he needed to get himself up on his feet. If he had a place to stay, and food, it would be so much easier to take care of himself. It would be easier to get himself back on his feet.

"A lifeline," Dusty repeated quietly, tightening his grip on the address. He looked up at Phira, catching her eye, and said in a voice of absolute sincerity, "Thank you. I don't know how I'll repay, but I swear that I will. One day, I will."