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.