The Journey
My mother died when I only 4 years old. Sometimes I receive faint memories of her. My father, in grief of my mother dying, left me. I don’t know where he is, or if he is even alive. I don’t remember him much, but I do know he has the same birthmark as me. Even though I don’t remember him, I hate him. I hate him for leaving me.
My whole life after my mother died and father left me, I have been alone in this orphanage, without friends or a family, but I am tired of staying in my range of proximity so I am taking a journey. A journey. I do not know what I will find or experience, but I am barely getting by now, so I might as well go for it.
So I walked.
I just followed where my legs took me. Most people would probably think it’s pretty stupid for a 16-year-old boy to start walking and take a “journey” alone with only a backpack and $120.68, but I don’t want to die in this desolate town, so I might as well die somewhere where I enjoy myself.
I walked for about a week, buying some food here and there. I would stop to sleep behind buildings or anywhere I could find solitude. Here and there I would do favors or jobs for people and earn a little money. By the end of about three and a half weeks, I made it to Colarado. I guess I was planning to get to Nevada then eventually to California. I didn’t know how I was going to walk across the Rocky Mountains, so I figured I could take buses. I needed to get more money to be able to pay for the rides, so I better stay put for a little while. A couple days past by and I saw a sign for yard work and the address. I figured I’d give it a shot. I arrived at the house and met the owners and told them about the sign and offered to work. They were a little hesitant because of my appearance but accepted. For about a week, every day, I showed up and worked for about six hours, with the pay being seven dollars per hour. I mowed the grass, tended the garden, painted their shed, and every other thing they asked me to do. At about the end of a week and a half, they gained my trust pretty quickly. I was then able to come when the owners weren't home, which I was honored that they trusted me. After two weeks working I had earned around $590 dollars. I said my goodbyes and headed to the bus station. I bought my ticket and the next day got on the bus. I met a girl a little older than me and we conversed. She seemed really open about things and told me she ran away from home. I told her my story and and our conversation died down. We eventually stopped talking and slept a little. When I woke up we had gotten through the Rocky Mountains. We stopped at a station and I boarded the second bus with my other ticket. The girl wasn't on this bus so it was fairly boring. I remember going through Utah, then arriving at Las Vegas, Nevada. I had only $400 now. When I got off the bus, I had to go to the restroom. I walked down the street when these guys came to me. They asked if I could help them fix their car. I awkwardly said sure, even though I had no idea what I was doing. They led me to their car that was parked on an empty parking lot. I asked what they needed me to do and turned around. Bam! I felt a bony fist drive into my face. They were trying to rob me. I was being dragged and searched. I don't remember much after that. I must have gotten knocked out. When I woke up I was laying in the middle of the parking lot. It took me a minute to regain some sense, but I was glad they were gone. I checked my pockets, and the money was gone but not all of it. I had separated it and I was glad I did. They had taken $100, but I still had $300. I was furious at myself for being such a moron. My head hurt, and I had a bloody nose. My legs were scratched up, but I would live.

I made it to a local diner and washed up in the restroom. I came across a casino and went in. I gambled. I don't why, but I thought I was smarter than that. I'll just blame it on the punch those guys gave me in the head. I gambled $50. It was my lucky day, because I ended up getting $200. I now had $450. Even though I got money from gambling, I told myself I wouldn't do it again. I could have lost my money which was kind of stupid. After that I decided to stay at a motel. It was $50 a night. I got a shower, which felt really good, but burned all my scrapes and cuts. The next day I left the motel . I think I had had enough of Las Vegas. I stopped at McDonalds and got a burger, then continued. I got some rides from kind people and ended up in California. I never thought I'd be in California. As I was walking I saw an old man on the street. He appeared homeless with a golden retriever dog. I knew how he felt since I was homeless myself. I dropped two dollars in his hat, and he looked up and said, "God Bless You." Nightfall came fairly fast, and I found an empty alley. The same old man was there. I asked if he would mind if I took a seat. He mumbled, but said it was fine. He stared me down and we talked. He was 71 years old. I told him my story. His father had died when he was nine years old. I apologized. His name was Ron. He had told me he was homeless, like me. He said he was just going through everyday just waiting to leave this world. I stayed with him that night, and every day and night for two weeks, helping him out. One day he began coughing violently. I went to the local store and bought some cough medicine. He thanked me, and for the next couple days he felt a little better. He began telling me about his whole life including how he served in the war as a marine. One morning I woke up and got a little food for us and the dog. Then I went to wake the old man up as usual. I went and called for the man. No reply. I went to where he was sleeping. He was still there. I tapped him. He didn't wake up. The worst thought came to me. Was this really happening? I shook him. Felt his heart, his pulse. His hands were as cold as winter, and he wasn't breathing. I cried violently. Even though I only knew Ron for a couple weeks, I felt how it was to have a father, to not be alone. His dog, Otto, sat beside me. He howled and yelped, as I weeped. I found a note, leaving his belongings to me and a note saying that I was like a son to him. I took Ron to a local cemetery and picked flowers for his grave. I said my goodbyes. I went back to our site, grabbed my belongings and Otto and continued my journey.
I was so shocked at what happened. I didn't even know what was going on. I started walking in an unknown direction. I stopped at a gas station and bought some Bugles for Otto and I. I also don't know why, but I also bought some candy, two lottery tickets, and a lemonade. I scratched off the first one, and won $5.00. Woo Hoo. The second one got $2.00, and told me to cash in the secret value at the register. I walked up to the register, and handed my ticket to the cashier. The man cashed the tickets and my "secret value". It went silent. He looked at me with wide eyes, in a surprised look with a tad of envy. I had won $15,000 with a plane ride to New York. OMG! WHAT JUST HAPPEND? I was filled with joy.
Before I knew it, I was on that plane. Otto was with me, too. I rested, but mostly looked out the window. I was a little scared, but it was amazing. The plane landed and I got out with sea legs, or plane legs. I met with Otto, when he got out of the plane. The Big Apple was right in front of me. Well, my journey had taken me further than I had planned! Otto and I set off to explore. I bought some dog treats for him and a hot dog for me. We went to the park. I was so tired and so was Otto that I took a blanket out of my bag and we napped.

When I woke up, Otto was gone. I searched and called but no response. Then I heard that coarse bark of his and ran towards it. He was next to a German Shepard and the owner was a very pretty girl. She was very familiar looking and then I realized she was the girl on the bus! She recognized me, also. Wow, I never would have thought we would meet again, especially in New York. We talked, and the dogs played. She toured me around and then had to go home, but she gave me her number. That night I got a hotel room. The date was posted in the hallway. It was April 22. Tomorrow was my birthday! I had totally forgotten. Maybe I could get a little cake for me and treats for Otto tomorrow.
The next morning, I woke up and Otto pounced on me like he knew it was my birthday. I was 17 years old now. It didn't impact me much. I just moved on with my day. As I was going down the street, I heard yelling , I turned down an alley and saw two guys beating up another man. They were all about the same age, around middle age. The two men were robbing the other man. The man was yelling and obviously needed help. I didn't know what I could do, but I ran towards them with Otto at my heels. I threw a punch at one and Otto bit the other. The men fell down, and I took the wallet on the ground and gave it to the man. I grabbed his arm and ran out of there with him. I took him behind a building and took out my First Aid kit. He was not really with it. I gave him water and he talked a little. I was washing his cuts and bandaging him down his arm to his hand. I stopped in my tracks. I glared. A million feelings rushed through my veins. Hatred, love, empathy. He had the same birthmark on his hand as me. I looked into his eyes.
"Dad?" I said
"Carter?"
Tears passed down our cheeks.
Now I realized that my journey really did have a purpose, a very good one indeed.