“Excuse me sir, do you have some spare change?” I ask politely but I get a frown and an angry grunt in return.

“Get a job.”

My shoulders slump as I watch the man walk away but I soon focus on the next person passing by. I step closer and hold out my right hand as I ask, “Sorry, do you have…”

The woman walks away swiftly, ignoring me completely and therefore my sentence trails off. No use in wasting my breath if no one is around to hear it. I look left and right, the sidewalk is empty now, the woman has just turned the corner and I am alone. Frustrated, I pull my hand through my tight blond curls, wincing when my fingers get caught in a knot. It also feels dirty but that’s the least of my concern right now.

I dig in the pocket of my old jeans and take out the money I have gathered together today. Holding them in my open hand, I count the coins carefully and come to the disappointing figure of four dollars and thirty-eight cents. My fingers curl around the coins protectively as my eyes seek out the clock on the church tower. Three-thirty pm. Just an hour and a half left before Dave and Max will come around again like they do every day.

A person rushing by gets me out of my thoughts quickly. I need more money and soon. I carefully stash the coins in my pocket and run to catch up to the man who has just past me, holding out my hand as I let the words roll off my tongue automatically, “Sir, do you have some spare change?”

The clock strikes five and there they are, like clockwork, standing on the other side of the street signalling that I should come to them. My heart starts beating faster from sheer nerves but I obey and cross the street. They say nothing, instead they turn away and start walking, away from the main road, knowing I will follow and I do, too intimidated not to, knowing where they are going. A dead-end alley, just two blocks down the road.

“So kid, what do you got for us today?” Dave asks, levelling his eyes with mine. We are at the end of the alley. I am pressed in the corner and both Dave and Max are standing threateningly before me.

I hesitate to answer, knowing the amount probably won’t be satisfactory to them but what do they expect? That I can grow money? If that was the case I wouldn’t be living on the streets.

Dave shoves me hard, smacking me against the side wall. I moan but a threatening hand soon wraps around my throat. My eyes widen as Dave, the owner of the hand, pushes his face mere inches from mine.

“Answer us, street rat.” He hisses at me. I cringe at the name and the closeness, not to mention the pressure on my throat, but I show I’m willing to cooperate by nodding the best way I can.

“I got five dollars and eighty-nine cents.” I squeak oddly. I hold my breath, hoping it will be enough. When they frown I know it isn’t.

Dave releases me at once and gives me an extra shove as he demands. “Show me.”

I scramble to obey. Ignoring the sting in my shoulder as I withdraw the money from my pocket. I hand it all over and wait nervously as Dave counts the money. He nods and I give a breath of relief; they are satisfied. I’m wrong. Max pushes his weight against mine before I can react, trapping my thin frame against the cold brick wall.

“You’re not holding anything back, are you?” he asks menacingly.

I shake my head no, I wouldn’t dare. I’d tried that once but never again. They’d beaten me and taken the money anyway. No, better to just hand it all over and get it over with, as painful, shameful and hard as it is.

“Good. We’ll come by again tomorrow and we expect at least ten bucks. If not, well, you’ll probably make a good punching bag.” I swallow hard in fear, my eyes widening. Max smirks.

“Ten bucks baby curly, or else…” he threatens, purposely letting his sentence trail off, before his weight is gone but he does bore his fist in my stomach just for fun I guess. Or a warning. I double over, coughing as they retreat in laughter.

I wrap an arm around myself, trying to ease the pain as I have barely any fat on my belly, the fist has contacted almost directly with my stomach. I stand hunched over for a few minutes, regaining my breath and gently rubbing away the sting before I am able to walk away. My tormentors are long gone.

That night I curl up against the wall in another dark alley. I pull my jacket close around my body and hold one hand in the pocket of my jeans. I’d started begging again immediately and now nearly six hours later I already have four dollars and twelve cents, people are less merciless when it gets dark. They’ll see you standing there, shivering and alone, begging for some spare change. It apparently looks more pathetic at night and so they give more. I am not complaining, I know I’m not even half way there yet but it’s more than I’d gotten earlier in the day so maybe luck will finally be on my side.

“Hey Juppy!” A voice calls out for me.

I turn my head, a smile forming immediately as I recognize the voice. It’s my best friend and true love JC. Actually his name is Josh but he has adopted the name JC because he thinks it sounds tougher. It hasn’t really done him a lot of good but JC it is. I still call him Josh though, he never protests when I do but he has asked me to call him JC whenever other people are around.

In a way, Josh has adopted me too. He is a few years older than me and he always manages to make me feel safe. He took me under his wing when I was just wandering around helpless and afraid. He has helped and guided me and he’s still my safe haven, protecting me whenever he can, even when he can’t.

“Hey,” I greet him tiredly. His beautiful blue eyes look tired but they always have the same soothing affect on me. I’m always glad to see him, relieved he’s still safe and unharmed. I can tell he feels the same way because he quickly sinks down next to me and wraps his arm around me, kissing me sweetly on the lips. He settles his back against the wall and pulls me against him.

“They came by again?” he asks me.

I nod. “Yeah, took all my money as usual.” I answer sadly.

“Bastards!” he says matter of factly, then adding, “You know one day I’ll wait for them and rob them.”

I smile at the image and sigh contently, lost in the dream. I snuggle closer to Josh’s warmth and reveal, “I used to go to school with them.”

He looks quite surprised. Almost shocked. “Really?”

I nod. “Yeah, they were a year behind but always tried to suck up and stuff, trying to get into the inner circle. I was popular you know. Guess they’re finally getting their revenge, although I don’t remember ever being really mean to them.”

I sigh sadly. “Now I let them take my money.”

Josh pulls me closer and I smile shortly before remembering my tormentors’ warning. “They want ten bucks tomorrow.”

“Ten?!” he asks surprised.

I nod.

“How much you got now?”

“Four dollars and twelve cents.” I sigh. I don’t have to look at him to know that he’s trying to come up with a plan to get me the rest of the money I need.

“You got any money?” I ask as I look up to him, when the silence stretches too long.

“Yeah, I got some but you know they’re coming tomorrow too.”

I nod. I know. He has people too, who come and threaten him every day, demanding his money. All the money he’s gathered together. He’s forced to give it up just like I am. Despite the fact that Josh never tells me exactly who is coming for his money, I know they’re dangerous. I know they demand a lot more money than my tormentors do and although he tries to hide it, I also know what he does to get the money together. I don’t judge though, I know he doesn’t have more of a choice than I do. It’s just the way it is. We pay them because we have to, we don’t owe them money technically, we’re not in debt to them but it’s the prize we pay to stay alive, so we don’t get beat up, raped or killed. It’s the prize we pay to survive another day. It’s simply the way of the streets.

“They called me baby curly.” I mumble.

“Why?” he asks simply.

I shrug. I don’t know exactly but I have an idea. “They always do that, guess it makes them feel powerful and is supposed to make me feel ashamed and useless, like they need to use a name for that...” I say sadly.

“What do you mean?” I know he already knows the answers but he let’s me explain anyway. I love him.

“I always feel small and insignificant, like I don’t matter, when they come around. I mean, I’m homeless, I haven’t had a bath in…” I stop to think.

“I don’t even remember! I don’t have even a penny to my name and the small amount I manage to collect every day, they take it from me!”

I sigh, revealing it all to my best friend, I trust him more than anyone, even the friends I had when I still lived with my mom and stepfather I didn’t trust them this much even though I knew them longer. The relationship I have with Josh is much deeper, we have to be tough to survive every day and it’s nice to know we can be vulnerable with each other.

“I feel like scum, I feel weak, ashamed and helpless when I just let them take my money. They know that too, the nickname is just to underline that fact and make me feel worse.”

He says nothing, and so I ramble on, spewing the thoughts that haunt me every single moment of every single day. It’s always the same question that plagues me, “Why? I mean, I just don’t understand why they do this to me. It’s not like I ever did anything to them. They know I have no money to buy food and that I’ll have to eat out of dumpsters because they take the only money I have but they don’t care. They don’t care if I’m hungry, they don’t care that they hurt me, it’s like they don’t think I’m human. That I don’t deserve those simple things, I just don’t understand why.”

Josh pulls me closer soothingly and I accept his comfort willingly, resting my head on his chest. “I don’t understand either, Juppy.” He answers quietly.

“I wish I could stop them, but…”

I shake my head, “It’s not your fault.”

“It’s not yours either.”

I sigh, I know he’s right but I don’t believe it, not really. He probably knows I don’t believe it but he doesn’t press it any further. Instead he just kisses the top of my head and says, “Get some sleep, Juppy, you’re safe now.”

I sigh contently as I hear those words because every night he tells me that, every night he whispers those words to me and it’s only then that I can relax and fall asleep, protected from all harm in his arms.