My body chilled over as the cool fall breeze over came my head and my somewhat ripped jeans and jacket. Sitting on the freezing concrete of the New York City asking for change didn't help. But this was normal for me.
Yes, I was poor. I didn't have a home or anyone to go to in my dire state; no. It was me on my own.
My life was simple as it was; wake up, ask for money, buy anything from the store from the little amount of money I earned, eat maybe, then sleep. But last night my schedule was sort of...altered. Some random street thugs stole my little foods, blanket, and hat. They even sliced my arms when I tried to fight back for my goods. So