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“Spare some change for the hungry, sir?” a voice below me said. I looked down to see a dirty middle aged man in patched clothing, shaking a cracked mug. I put my hand in my pocket and thumbed the quarters I was saving for parking at the Upside Sports Club.
“Why don’t you just get a job?” I shot back at him.
The man gave me a hurt look, and then shook his mug at the person behind me. I pulled the collar of my overcoat against the wind and walked the block to my building. I took the elevator to the penthouse on the eleventh floor. After enjoying a piece of roast chicken and mashed potatoes, checked my stocks in the newspaper, and went to bed.
I awoke with a chill, I thought I saw a dark shadow cross in front of my window. With shaky legs I got up, dressed, and plucked the Metro Section from my doorstep. Unrolling it I scanned the cover, a headline caught my eye. ‘Homeless Man Frozen to Death on Park Avenue’ was printed in small letters with a picture of the man from the day before.
“Huh, must have been a slow news day.” I said putting down the paper.
“Yeah, who would have thought I’d end up on the front page, eh?”
I whirled around to see an empty room.
“Must have been that crazy Johnson family downstairs,” I told my fish tank vaguely. Realizing it was Saturday, I smiled. The new art gallery on Broadway was opening and I was attending the after party.
“Got big plans for tonight? I do.”
This time I turned around to see the homeless man floating in my living room, grinning at me.
“How did you get into my apartment? How did you get in?” I screamed.
“Oh I know everyone who lives in this building. I used to be the doorman here,” he said examining my television.
“Get out, get out, get out!”
“Now now, is that anyway to treat a guest?”
I watched as he floated away from the door and I bolted. Once out on the street, I starting walking as fast as I could, I needed to get away!
“Not getting rid of me that easily buddy boy.”
Turning slowly I felt the color drain from my face as I saw him floating there, grinning at me. I let out a scream.
“Hey, you okay there guy?” a passerby asked.
“Don’t you see him floating there?” I said frantically gesturing to where the homeless man was.
“See what?”
“See…see him!”
“Hey, you need to see a shrink.” he said striding away. More people passed, giving me a little space, and trying to avoid eye contact.
“Nice try. You know, I think I’m going to like this haunting business.”
“Why me?” I whispered.
“You were the straw that broke the camel’s back.”
I understood, of course!
“Would you like some change now? I’ve got tons of change! Tons! Just let me give it to you, and then you can go away!”
“What good will some change do me now? Maybe it would have been great back when I lost my job, or even when I lost my place because I couldn’t pay the rent in time, but now it’s worthless. No, I’m going to stick around for as long as you live, however long that may be.”
For the rest of that day I wandered around the city in a hopeless daze. I passed through Time Square, and rode back and forth on different trains. All along the way the homeless man chattered away, asking me questions and telling me more about him.
“Did you know I had kids? A boy and a girl, they were the greatest kids a guy could ask for. The girl’s name as Annie and the boy’s is Richard. After I lost my house I wasn’t allowed to see them anymore. I wonder how they are.”
Each statement weighed me down, dragged me deeper. How could I end this torture? While riding the A train headed uptown, I looked straight into his face. His eyes were so deep and sad I fell in. I could feel myself drowning in his despair. I banged my head on the window to break the spell. I saw my reflection in the glass and stared. Never had I looked as destroyed as I did now. There were dark circles under my eyes, despite the good night’s sleep I had had. My clothes were wrinkled, and my hair looked as though it hadn’t ever met a brush. My skin was pale, almost white as my companion’s. Touching my fingers to the grimy window pane, I started to laugh.
“Hey buddy, what’s so funny?” he asked. I continued to laugh louder and louder until everyone on the train was peering at me with judgmental eyes and I shad to stop. I stepped off the train, and wandered down 5th Avenue. My companion continued on, each word he spoke was forcing needles into my skin.
“I tried for unemployment, but I didn’t qualify, they never told me why. Welfare failed me too, I just couldn’t get back on track, and they gave up. The only way to gain money then was panning on the streets. Every cent was precious to me. Then there were people like you, up on a pedestal above the rest of us mortals. You couldn’t even spare a little time for a nameless man who’d lost everything in a turn of luck. My name was Harold Regious, but it means nothing to me now.”
I felt a sharp dagger twisting itself in my gut, but when I looked down there was nothing there.
“My father always said I would amount to great things, guess I proved him wrong.”
The dagger was there again, but I still saw nothing but the chains that were being built link by link around my arms, legs and neck. The pain of the guilt took the form of pricks, pinches, prods, and violent stabs. At last the homeless man, Harold, stop talking and I realized I had made it back to my beautiful apartment building. Being home brought me no comfort anymore, with Harold gliding two steps in front of me. Always I was reminded of my torment.
Days and weeks pass, and still the man follows me. I can’t sleep, I don’t taste my food, and life has been reduced to a numb throbbing pain. In November, I lost my job to a younger, more charming man. In January, I was evicted from the place I once called home. I had to walk the streets, panning for money when I could, always two steps behind my tormentor. Chains cover my body, weighing me down more and more with the passing time. One day I looked up at the man. He grinned at me, and took one of the many chains that holds me. Leading me slowly down a pier, he stops at the edge. I looked down into the dark water as the man gave a final tug at the chain and I tumbled into the water. As I sank, I could only look up at the man, floating above the surface, laughing.
- Title: Regretable
- Artist: Erythrai
- Description: There are consequences for every action. Some can be lethal.
- Date: 08/28/2008
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Comments (3 Comments)
- Yulia Olegovna Volkova - 12/26/2008
- Also, the aspect of the ghost of the homeless man following him was a wonderful idea. Surely if I could, I would haunt a person that had done me wrong. I also think that the man losing his job because of the ghost in the end, thus becoming like the homeless man was a great idea. Kudos. ^^
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- Yulia Olegovna Volkova - 12/26/2008
- I love this. The twist in the end where he learns the mans past and is haunted by his action... it was well done. Indeed, your description sums up the point to the story in a great way. I think many people should learn from this story. =)
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- AzMiss - 12/17/2008
- wow!! you are very good,,what can i say i hope you win!!!
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