Player Zero:No Exit

1

No One Notices the Weak

Jack's point of View

People think that being homeless means you are a person.. That is not what being homeless is like. Being homeless is about the person who's homeless, like the homeless person and what they are going through. The homeless person is not always loud that is just what people think.

People think that homeless individuals beg all the time. People think that homeless individuals shout at others. Homeless individuals are thought to smell bad on purpose. That they choose to live like this.

The truth is, you learn to be quiet. I think that is what happens when you are, around people all the time. You figure out that it is better to be quiet and listen. The truth is, you learn to be quiet because it's easier that way. You do not have to worry about saying something when you are quiet. The truth is, you learn to be quiet and it becomes a part of who you're.

You have to fold yourself up small so that you do not bother anyone. You have to sit still for a very long time without moving at all. The reason you do not move is that when you move people look at you. And when people look at you they do not see a person they just see the anxiety of you being there the Person, you is not seen.

People see a problem. The problem is something that people notice. People think that the problem needs to be fixed. The problem is an issue, for people.

My name is Jack. I am eighteen years old. The world seems to ignore me most of the time. It is like the world does not even know that Jack exists.

I wake up before the sun is up because sleeping late is not an idea. At night time people can be really mean. In the morning people are just really busy. Busy people do not kick you for no reason all. Morning people are just busy they do not have time to be cruel like people are, at night.

The ground under the bridge is really cold when I sit up. My back hurts a lot because I slept in a position. I get up slowly so people do not notice me. A man, in a suit walks by above me his shoes making a lot of noise as he walks quickly. He is talking on his phone.

The man laughs at something. He finds something funny. He laughs at it. The man is laughing.

I really want to know what it is like to laugh and not think about what happens after that. Laughing without worrying is something that I think about a lot. What does it feel like to laugh and be happy like really happy, without thinking about what comes next. Laughing like that is something that I wish I could do.

I roll up the blanket I found weeks ago. The blanket smells really bad no matter how much I shake the blanket out. I shove the blanket into my backpack with the rest of my life the blanket and all my other stuff.

I am feeling hungry. The food is what I am thinking about now. I want to eat something because I am hungry.

That is not something. The thing that you are talking about is something that we already know about. It is not new all. We have seen this thing before. This thing is not new.

Hunger stopped feeling sharp a time ago. Now hunger is there like the noise that is always in the background. It is, like breathing, something that hunger is always doing and you get used to it. Hunger is a part of life now.

I check my pockets anyway. There is nothing, in them. I do not even have any change.

I am heading toward the city as the sky starts to turn gray.

The streets are waking up slowly.

Shops are pulling up their metal gates.

Buses are. Going with a loud hiss.

People are moving fast they are looking forward their minds are already somewhere else thinking about the city and what they have to do in the city.

I sit near a bakery. The bakery is not next to me. It is close enough to the bakery that I can smell the bread from the bakery. The smell of bread, from the bakery is really nice.

The smell is really bad. It hurts me more, than being hungry. When I smell this smell it bothers me a lot. The smell is what hurts me the not the hunger.

A woman walks out. She is holding a bag. I look up without thinking about it. The woman and I our eyes meet for half a second.

The woman looks unhappy. She frowns. She has a frown, on her face.

She holds the bag tightly now. The bag is squeezed tightly in her hand. Her hand is wrapped tightly around the bag.

The woman crosses the street. She is crossing the street to get to the side. The street is a busy place but the woman is careful she looks both ways before she crosses the street.

I look down at the things that are in front of me. The things that are, in front of me are what I am seeing when I look down.

That thing happens a lot, to the user. The user sees that happen all the time. It is really common for that to happen.

Around the middle of the morning I try my luck.

I stand near the corner where people wait for the light to change. I do not hold a sign. The people waiting for the light to change do not like signs because signs make the people angry. I just stand there. I am quiet. The light to change is what the people are waiting for. I just stand near the corner and I wait with the people.

I say to the person "Do you have some money you can give me?" I ask this in a voice.

It seems like nobody is answering. The phone just keeps ringing. Nobody picks up. I have been waiting for a long time and still nobody answers.

This guy is walking around with his headphones on. He almost runs into me. Then he clicks his tongue like I am the one who's in his way not the other way around. The guy, in headphones seems annoyed with me.

The man tells him to watch it.

I really want to laugh. Laughing is something that I'm in the mood for right now. The thing that is, on my mind is laughter. I wish I could have a good laugh. I want to laugh.

Watch what? My empty hands?

A group of high school kids stop nearby. These kids are really loud they are pushing each other around. Joking with each other. One of the high school kids notices me.

He says to his friend "Yo". Then he gives his friend a nudge. He wants his friend to check out that guy. He is really telling his friend to look at the guy.

Everyone is looking at the cars. The cars are what everyone is looking at.

One of the guys wrinkles his nose. "Damn. The man looks like a zombie."

Someone else laughs. "No zombies have a lot energy."

People laugh together. The sound is really loud. It comes easy to them.

I look down at the ground. The ground is what I am staring at.

"Hey " one of the people says to me. "Are you homeless?"

I do not answer.

He says that is probably a yes. The man is going to smell bad I think the man smells crazy.

The people walk off. They are still laughing.

I am staying where I am.

I do not cry. The thing is crying is a waste of water and water actually costs money. So crying is something that I just do not do because Water is really valuable and I do not want to waste Water.

Around noon my head starts to feel light. That is a feeling I know well. It means my body is telling me that I need to eat food or my legs will not be able to hold me up and I will feel very weak. My legs will give out if I do not eat food soon.

I go to the back of a grocery store. The grocery store is where I am and I am walking to the back of the grocery store.

The trash bins are locked now. The trash bins were not locked before. I think this is because many people, like me were using the trash bins.

I will wait anyway.

Sometimes employees will throw things beside the bin of, inside the bin. The food is still good to eat. It does not look good enough to sell. Employees throw away the food beside the bin. This food is still good.

A worker comes out. This worker is young. The worker is probably around my age. The worker has an uniform, on. The worker also has a face.

I take a step back so he does not think I am trying to steal from him.

The man notices me anyway. He actually sees me standing there. The man is looking at me.

The man says hey. He is being really short, with me. He tells me that I am not allowed to be. He says it like he means it so I should probably listen to him. Leave. The man is looking at me. He says "You can't be here" again like I did not hear him the first time.

I say that I am not doing anything. I say it very quickly.

It does not matter. The customers complain.

I am going to leave. I will walk out of here. The decision is made and I am leaving. I will not stay.

I always leave my home when I feel unhappy. Leaving is something I do when things get tough for me. I leave because it is easy for me to walk away, from things that make me feel bad. Leaving is what I always do.

He watches me until I am completely gone. He keeps watching me the man, until I am, out of sight.

I do not look back.

I find myself sitting on a bench near the bus stop. My legs are shaking when I sit down. A girl is sitting at the end of the bench she is scrolling on her phone. The bus stop bench has a lot of space, between the girl and me the bus stop bench is not very crowded.

The girl sees me. She gets up from where she is sitting. The girl stands up. Looks at me.

She does not move far. She only moves enough.

That really hurts me more than if she had actually yelled at me. Yelling would have been bad. This is even worse. The fact that she did not yell makes it hurt more than if she had yelled.

I close my eyes. It is very quiet when I do this. My eyes are closed. I can feel myself relaxing. The world outside just fades away when my eyes are closed. I close my eyes. I start to feel calm.

I often think about when I was a kid. I think about the things I did when I was younger. It is really nice to think about my childhood and the fun things I did when I was younger.

I do not remember my parents. Sometimes I remember faces. These faces feel like they are not real, like dreams that I do not trust. I grew up moving from one place to another. I stayed in shelters. I stayed in group homes. I stayed on the streets. Each of these places told me the thing but they said it in different ways.

You are temporary.

Teachers just stopped calling on me in class because I never had my homework done.

Kids would not sit next to me at lunch or on the bus because I wore the clothes to school every single day.

When I turned sixteen years old adults stopped asking me questions, about my life and what I wanted to do.

No one informs you that you are being erased. This thing happens slowly. You do not really notice that you are being erased until it is too late. The process of being erased is an one. Being erased is something that happens to people. They do not even know it is happening to them.

By afternoon I finally get something to eat. Someone gives me a money. A man drops a coins without even looking at me. I use the money to buy a sandwich. Then I eat the sandwich behind a building. I do this so that no one can take my food. I just want to eat my sandwich in peace.

I eat my food slowly. Every single bite of my food matters to me.

The sun is going down. Now the city is getting noisy again. The night people are coming out. The city is really loud now because the night people are out and, about. The night people are everywhere.

That is when things get really bad.

A drunk man walks by me. He is laughing for no reason at all. Then a car slows down someone shouts something. I do not know what the drunk man or the person in the car said and then the car speeds away, from us.

I am going back to the bridge before the sun goes down. It gets dark. The bridge is where I need to be. I am heading back, to the bridge now.

As I am walking I see a store window. The person in the store window is me. My own reflection surprises the living daylights out of me. I did not expect to see myself in the store window. The store window has my reflection, in it. It catches me off guard.

I look really small.

I look too thin. My hair is uneven because I cut it myself and I did a job. My eyes look really tired. The clothes I am wearing are hanging wrong on my body. My hair is really uneven, from when I cut my hair myself.

I look like someone that people step around. Sometimes people walk by me. They do not even notice I am there. I am, like the person people step around on the street. People just keep walking. I am the person people step around every day.

I am thinking that this might be the end. This thing that is happening is this really it. I mean I do not know for sure. I have a feeling that this is it.

If this is all my life will ever be.

Surviving. Being ignored. Being laughed at. Being nothing.

When I get to the bridge the sky is really dark. It is black the sky is black.

I crawl into my spot. I pull my backpack close to me. My body is sore, in a lot of places that I did not know could even be sore.

I look up at the concrete that's right, above me. The concrete is what I see when I stare up.

I say quietly "I did not do anything wrong."

The bridge does not answer.

I think about tomorrow. Then I think about the day after tomorrow. After that I think about the day, after that one tomorrow.

All of these things look the same to me. The cars look the same. The houses look the same. Even the people look the same. I just cannot tell the difference, between the cars and the houses and the people because they all look the same.

My eyes are getting heavy. They start to close.

That is when I hear the footsteps.

Slow.

Even.

Too calm.

I open my eyes. It is a feeling when I open my eyes. My eyes are open now.

The shadows stretch toward me. They are, like fingers reaching out. The shadows stretch toward me. It is a little scary.

And for the first time all day, someone is finally looking right at me.