George stays right up the way from my house. I see George Every day when I walk home from school. George says, “Hi” and tells me to stay in school and do the right things. I usually wave back and smile and if I have some leftover lunch I give it to George. All the while my classmates are making fun of George because George lives in a tent in Wellington Park.
It was the last day of school, and everybody was rowdy and loud walking home.
Some of the kids ran over by George taunting him and took his backpack. Whatever was in that backpack George wanted badly. He got up and ran after the kid. In an instant, the kid ran across the street and George ran after him not paying attention and was hit by a car and died on impact.
Three days later there was a knock on my door, men in suits asking for me, Lucy, talking with my mom and dad. George only knew my first name and the high school I attended. George left me seventy-five thousand dollars that he had saved from his retirement before he decided to live on the streets. George left a note to his family about his will with me in it and a note to me in his backpack.
That note said, “Lucy no matter what you go through in life don’t change, be the light for those who have gone to the dark and have no hope.”
©Nichole Nichole