• A Street Kid

    Linen, chiffon, and pink, frilly things. She twirled around as she giddily eyed every shiny trinket, every velvet dress, and every gorgeous piece of jewelry in the great pink wonderland. She could barely make out in her mind the images of rusty cans and empty bottles, images of poverty which seemed so out of place in such an extravagant room full of what looked like really expensive odds and ends. What was that? She thought to herself as she wearily shook her head in confusion. What a random thought.

    Flocking gaily to the side of a porcelain tea set in the far right side of the room, she marveled at the intricacy of the lovely sakura blossoms embossed on each tiny cup. She carefully picked one up, eyeing it curiously as she proceeded to pour herself some darjeeling tea.

    Sipping slowly, her mind wandered off and she looked around, eyeing each and every wonderful toy again. A couple of ball-jointed dolls dressed in Victorian fashion caught her eye. Leaving the empty cup on the glass table, she hastily went there to inspect them further.

    “What lovely things,” she breathed, awestruck, as she slowly caressed their clay faces. How lean, white, and beautiful! Yes, she couldn’t think of enough adjectives to describe how perfect they were. She thought that their smiles definitely suited them. Yes, if anyone was that perfect, surely he’d have such a smile on his face as well.

    Her heart skipped a beat, and a feeling of dread overwhelmed her very being. Instinctively, she turned to her right, and there, on the floor, was a very horrible sight. Dozens upon dozens of the same perfect dolls, with the same pretty smiles, were on the floor, their smooth faces marred by dust and filth, and their wonderful bodies broken into countless pieces.

    She gasped. What happened? Just earlier, she thought that they had everything; they had nice clothes, luscious hair, and beauty, beauty far beyond what was known to man. They always smiled. But... what happened? Her mind simply couldn’t comprehend.

    Then, the exquisitely beautiful, yet utterly useless things vanished, one by one, into nothingness. She just stood there, staring at them, feeling neither sadness nor any other feeling at all. In their place, she saw vandalized walls, flickering lights, garbage cans, and stray cats.

    The wonderland was gone. That's when she felt the cold, hard cement on her bruised back. The all-too-familiar mix of deadly carbon monoxide and smoke teased her nostrils. She coughed. A couple of seconds passed, and she realized that she has just woken up.

    Her sister was beside her, still sleeping peacefully. The tattered remains of a carton box served as their blankets. Memories of the gorgeous bed and its fluffy comforters flashed in her head. She was in utter bliss a second ago, but now...

    She stopped, shocked that she couldn’t finish that thought. Now, what about now? She gazed at her sister’s serene face again. She felt her heart beat, one, two. She looked at their little space on the sidewalk, alongside countless other homeless people, most of whom were their friends.

    She was happy. Even though she didn’t have something soft to sleep on and something delicious to eat, she had her sister. “There are things in this world that are far, far, far more valuable than money,” she quietly mumbled to herself as she woke her sister up. The rays of sunlight complimented her auburn tresses. A new day has begun.

    Linen, chiffon, and pink, frilly things. She twirled around as she giddily eyed every shiny trinket, every velvet dress, and every gorgeous piece of jewelry in the pink wonderland...