Name's Effelina Louise, but everyone I know calls me Effie Lou. I prefer it that way.
I am in my later fifties, but look more like a woman into her eighties. Guess it's cause life has been nothin' but the shits for me. Been homeless goin' on over thirty years now, when I got scammed by a con artist and lost everythin'. Been on the streets ever since; it's a life I wouldn't wish on anybody, not even the ugliest dog!
I sleep anywhere I can find: in the park (before the cops chase me or my buddies out, that is), underneath the bridges, by the side of the road, in alleyways, behind trash cans ... hey, a body's gotta do what a body's gotta do, y'know? I also sleep in the shelter if there's any room (and usually, durin' this time of year, there ain't).
I had a family, but they disowned me when I became a woman of the streets. Haven't heard from 'em; wonder if any of 'em are even still alive. I think about them, especially durin' this time of year, and I wonder if they do the same 'bout me.
Somehow, I doubt it. They got their own lives to live.
I hate this time of year. People say they're willin' to help. I say, fuck 'em all. They don't care for anybody but theyselves; an' Christmas, to me is just another day. It ain't bringin' me any joy or presents. I haven't gotten anythin' new in I don't know how long, and nobody's even bothered to give me a goddamn thing. If I try to beg for a little money (so I can get somethin' to eat or drink), they look at me funny or treat me like I'm carryin' the bubonic plague or somethin'. It's really terrrible!!
If people do help anybody, it's the chillun. It's always the chillun. They seem to forget that there are needy adults livin' underneath their snooty noses, and I'm sorry, but we could use a helpin' hand (or a meal, or even a little somethin' to show people that they thinkin' of us poor unfortunates) that they care.
Care, my ass. They don't give a flyin' fuck about nothin' excepting what they gettin' for their friends or families; it's like we don't even exist in their world!
Now with the recent snow we had, I find myself tryin' desperately to find a place warm enough to sleep. I's tired of sleepin' in leaky carboard boxes or underneath a bench or bein' chased out by the park by a cop! I want somewhere warm to sleep, to where I'm out of the weather! My fingers and toes, they got chilblains and are frostbit; I need relief from this cold weather! I don't want to become another statistic from the cold snap!
Well, I done made myself cry again. Seems that's all I ever do anymore. And with Christmas 'round the corner, it only makes it worse. Well, to hell with Christmas! I wish it had never been invented! Christmas for people like myself is anything but merry!
*To be continued.*