• I hunched my shoulders against the sudden chill that blew trash along the New York streets of the bronx. I Pulled my beanie farther down over my ears, my scarf overly mouth, and shoved my hands into my pockets. God it was freezing. I walked faster trying to get to Mott Haven, then to Manhattan, before the sun went down. If there’s one thing i knew, it’s never stay the night in the bronx. I licked my lips. and trudged forward. I was about 3 miles out from Mott Haven, when i saw her. She stumbled out of the ally, clutching the wall desperately. At first i thought she was just another heroine addict coming out from shooting up, on a count of the various needle scars all over her forearm, but i’ve never seen a heroine addict wearing a hospital gown. I stopped a few feet from her. Trying to keep still. Hoping She wouldn’t see me. But the wind blew; it was enough to force her skinny body, to turn towards me. She looked at me, and i stared back. Her eyes where covered my a mask, only one eye showed through a crack in the mask. It was the purest green i’d ever seen. Her hair was long, close to the back of her knees, and pure black. Her skin was covered in dirt, and what looked like oil, and soot. The front of her pale blue hospital gown was covered in even more mysterious stains. She just stared at me. And i stared back. Another cold chill, sends her mane of hair flying forward in a dirty, matted mess. I can’t tell you how long we stood there for. Studying each other, not daring to speak. Then out of nowhere a car came barreling down the road so fast it was just a blur, and lost into the bronx. My heart pounded in my chest. “Which way to the river?” She asked. I pointed in the direction i was going. She turned her head very very slowly and looked down the street. Even slower she nodded her head and began to walk. Lucky for her the sun had already set, unlike for me though i didn't like the night to much. I let her get a few good paces ahead of me, before i began to follow. We where headed in the same direction basically.
    I tried not to stare, but in the unnerving silence all you could hear was her bare feet slapping against the pavement. She swayed heavily as she walked, like a child learning to walk for the first time, falling often. I noticed, as we walked, her left leg was covered in some dark substance, and her left foot was turned in ward, almost pigeoned toed. It looked almost painful. I felt weird watching her so i stared at the ground. Hoping to hide behind my scarf. I saw, as i walked, a pattern on the side walk. Dark misshapen drops of something along the ground. They where small, but i saw them clearly in the streetlight. Did i bother me? ‘Does it bother you.’ i asked myself. My fingers started to feel numb, along with my lips. I looked up to see the bridge that would take me over to Manhattan. And her. ‘Is she not cold?’ I asked myself. She had no shoes, no coat, no scarf. Just a hospital gown and long hair. She stopped before the bridge, and i walked past her. I looked forward. I didn't want to get involved with her. I couldn’t get involved with her. Whatever story she had, didn't want a part of it. I walked as cars rolled by. Then i heard a scream and a splash. I stopped dead for a split second before spinning around to see she wasn't there. I ran with my heart pounding to the railing, to see air bubbles coming to the surface. I sighed, feeling a strange ache in my chest. I guess there won’t be a story. I turned and walked away. Towards Manhattan, towards home, towards a normal life with one weird interaction, i’d probably tell everyone in school about. I’ll probably be called a liar, and a freak, maybe i might become popular, get my 15 minutes of fame you know? Then forget about her. Her story is lost forever to an unforgiving river.