The Streetlight At The Corner

As the sun sank below the horizon, the streetlight flickered on. Its light softly touched the dirty pavement as a piece of crumpled paper rolled in the light breeze. A car drove quietly down the road, and came to a stop at the intersection directly under the glow of the streetlight. The driver threw an empty bottle out of the window, and it shattered in a spectacular display of flying glass. The fragments sparkled like fine jewelry as some pieces sprinkled down the storm drain at the curb. Without using its signal, the car took a right turn, and drove off.

About forty feet from the streetlight, a little girl dragged herself down the sidewalk. Her left shoe was untied, and her jacket was buckled wrong. She had a bright pink backpack hanging loosely on her slumped shoulders. Her eyes were blood shot, and her whites had turned yellow, but she did not cry.

She finally reached the streetlight, and leaned against it. Her breath was staggered and raspy, and her chest heaved up and down with every breath. She removed her backpack, and dropped it to the ground. Inside were two thin children’s books, Goodnight Moon and Where the Wild Things are, a two pack of Sno-Cones, and a worn teddy bear, whose left eye was missing.

The little girl looked hopelessly at the sky. The surrounding buildings towered up miles above her, looming over with a hundred boarded-up eyes. Graffiti, ranging from the artistically beautiful to the deplorably offensive, decorated the condemned and the simply worn down. And in this neighborhood, there existed more of the latter than the former.

A ways off behind her, the little girl heard the low rumble of an approaching engine. Quickly, she turned and ran into a small alleyway between two buildings. There were several overflowing trashcans, and their contents were well rotted. The smell was horrendous. She hid behind one of the metal trashcans, and carefully glanced towards the street. Her eyes widened and her heart raced. Leaning against the streetlight was her bright pink backpack. She knew she couldn’t risk running out to grab it, but she was also worried the person in the car may notice it. Or worse, steal it. After all, everything she had excluding the clothes on her back was in that backpack.

The car approached, and stopped at the intersection. She ducked back behind the trashcan, but curiosity quickly caused her to peak back out. The little girl saw a man, of about forty, with gray stubble on his chin, reach up and pluck a cigarette out of his mouth, burned to the filter. He rolled down the window and flicked the butt outside. His eyes remained on the road ahead. The butt landed only a few inches from her backpack. The car then took off and continued straight though the intersection without slowing down.

The little girl waited for several minutes before getting up. Both her hands were shaking nervously, and her knees kept threatening to buckle. She was incredibly tired, and her body demanded rest.

With great strain, the little girl left the alleyway and returned to the streetlight. She deliberately stepped on the cigarette, grinding it against the pavement to extinguish it. After letting out a noticeable sigh, she reached forward and held her backpack tightly. When a few seconds past, she unzipped the single pouch. She tossed her books and uneaten snack onto the ground, and grabbed her ancient toy. Ancient by teddy bear standards, at least.

The little girl hugged her bear as close to her body as she could. She felt like she was in a maze with no exit, and where she started off was far worse than whatever surprises loomed around the next corner. She hated hiding from everyone. She hated having to run away. She really didn’t think it would be so goddamn hard.

Far off she heard a low rumble, but it was not a car engine. A single drop fell from the sky, and landed on her cheek.

“Oh, please God, no,” she whispered.

Another drop landed on her head and another on the ground beside her. Soon, a steady stream of rain came down on her. Then, a downpour.

Under the soft glow of the street light, teddy bear in hand and soaked from the rainwater, the little girl wept. Her sobs blocked out everything; she couldn’t feel the rain pelting her from above, or see the dirt and grime being washed down the storm drain. She also didn’t hear the approaching siren, or see the flashing lights. When the man stepped out of the car and asked for her name, she said nothing. The moment the man put his hand on her should to gain her attention, however, she began to kick and scream. She fought tooth and nail to get away. When the man tried to explain who he was, and that he came to take her home, her efforts redoubled. The man, being both heavier and far stronger, eventually overpowered her, keeping her under control. Almost unnoticed to him, he wondered how he was going to explain to the Chief that a little girl was nearly able to fight him off.

Finally, she gave up. Her whole body went slack, and she fought no more.

The man held her, like a baby in his arms, and brought her to the car. He put the little girl in the back seat. She offered no resistance. He buckled her in while she merely rested her head on the car door, and stared out the window.

As the man was getting into the front seat, the street light continued to shine. Its reflection danced in a slowly building puddle beneath it. A piece of soggy paper sat, collecting more and more water. The rain glimmered under the street light, like flecks of silver. The police car started up, and began to drive away. As the car disappeared around the corner, the street light flickered off, even though it was still dark.