The Story of My
Life
Chapter
One
There was no space for me. My brat of a younger sister went and
got herself knocked up, so I got kicked out. The kid’s
probably a good ten months old now, but I’m still out here.
They all ignored me anyway. They probably forgot all about me
weeks after I left.
I’m Hunter Jay. That’s it. I haven’t got a last
name, or, I don’t use it anyway. Why would I use the name
of a bunch of people who didn’t want me? I tried my hardest
to rid myself of everything of theirs I had when my mom made me
leave. I refuse to believe I got kicked out because my sister got
pregnant, though. There were so many other options we had. Both
my parents had been looking for a way to get rid of me for a
while, I swear. My sister not knowing how to properly use
protection was my mom’s excuse. She needed my room for my
sister’s kid, apparently. That kid. It’s a boy, my
sister’s son, the one who took my place. I think they named
him James, Jacob, maybe Jayden. Something with a J. Not that I
care. I feel a bit bad about it sometimes, to be honest. I
don’t hate the poor kid. He didn’t do anything wrong.
It’s his existence. If the stinking kid had never been
born, I wouldn’t be out here. I wouldn’t have this
problem.
Enough of that, though. Like I said earlier, I’m Hunter.
For the past year or so I’ve lived in Boston, Massachusetts
against an apartment building. No one really notices me, or, to
be more accurate, no one cares enough to. I don’t mind,
though. People frighten me. It sounds weird, I know, but
you’d think the same thing if people were constantly
hurting you. I get kicked and walked on. I get things thrown at
me. Things like trash. It’s like I’m part of the
sidewalk. No one even considers me or thinks that I may have
feelings. Just like no one considers the sidewalk. It’s
okay.