The floor of the bathroom was covered in sludge, infested with crawling insects, and the walls were covered with vulgar expressions printed from the younger generation; who all possess the urge to leave their mark, to leave something behind. Young and naive Justin, age of seventeen, was beginning to question his decision—was his home in New Castle worth leaving? Was it worth this disgusting and pitiful struggle? The answer remains—yes. His years from birth until now, had always been struggle, what's the difference now, now he's without a drug educed mother and a deceased father. The struggle continues. As Justin sits on a thickly made layer of news paper which separated him from the floor and provided a slight feeling of cleanliness, he began to wonder; how he managed to be in this very position. Well yes, the gate car train station restroom that only has one toilet, a sink, and a mirror is the only place of his knowledge that has a locking door. A lock to keep the city out and Justin locked in; during the hours when the city was its most dangerous. It was dirty, it was risky, but sitting in the bathroom of a New York City gate car station was worth the time, and worth the liberation

Justin's mother, Loretta had told him to leave, and fend for himself; she was widow with no conscious, no sanity, and no responsibility. Justin was in a ford pickup truck driven by a man missing his left arm, north bound within 10 minutes of his mother's announcement. He had always been yearning for adventure, and a better life, for the one he had lived was still one without boundaries and rules; but it wasn't until he had hitchhiked to the freights, had he began to feel emancipated. At the freights, were boys upon boys upon boys, all running and hiding then at the precise moment making an electric dash for the freight as it began to steadily depart. In a matter of seconds—one—one foot in the freight, the other in the air—two—arms hold the bar with a grasp of determination—three—they made it, they sat upon the freight as if it were a metal glacier moving slowly across artic waters. This was the Great Depression, not a depression, "The Great Depression", if you want anything out of life, you've better decide to jump the freight in three seconds, and you better know what you're doing or you wont be jumping anything—ever again. Oh sure theses guys made it look easy, the train looked as if it wasn't moving very fast; But Justin had heard of the accidents; last year his friend Billy ran away from home and had fallen from a freight and nearly lost his life, managed to lose a limb, Billy came straight home and hasn't left since.

"C'mon! Hurry! Just go with its motion, you've got it!" said a boy who looked to be only 15 years of age. "That's the way! Almost! ALMOST THERE!" hollered a fair-skinned beauty whose stature resembled a doll. Justin was in and a round of applause was given in his honor—today Justin was honored. Sweating and fatigued, Justin searched for his handkerchief to wipe his face. To his disbelief, there it was; on the side of the train tracks lying amongst the rocks—the only article he held dear, his father had given it to him when he was young. It had the family emblem sewed on the corner; as the metal glacier floated further and further from the handkerchief, the true parting of Justin's past and present was illuminated. He was leaving without the notion to return, without any idea where he was heading. "So, first time right?" said the beauty. Stunned from his brief conference with reality, Justin was speechless. He was not sure if it were from losing the handkerchief or having the most beautiful girl address him. Her presence was almost entrancing, it was mystifying; her face strong with character, with green gems as eyes, and lips so flawless it seemed her maker was quite skilled. The wind penetrated the freight, and made her blond hair dance. Justin was lost in her splendor.

"Hello? I mean I know it's scary the first time, but it's alright, you shouldn't be that scared as to you cannot speak. I'm Lillian." she flashes smiles between her speech, it's a practiced skill.

"Oh—I'm—I'm…I'm Justin, it's very nice to meet you, Lillian. Would you by any chance know the direction in which we are heading?" Justin says.

"Why no where other than the BIG CITY! NEW YORK! Darlin'!" Lillian replies.

A feeling of excitement welled up in Justin's stomach, it felt like a ball inflating and deflating, it would inflate until it were only seconds away from combustion, then deflate, providing him with an ultimate feeling of adrenaline.

"Thank you Lillian" replies Justin, and he too attempts to smile in his speech.

"You're very welcome, if you need me I'll be sleeping over there" she explains as she points to the makeshift bed on the corner of the freight.

Justin watches as she strides to the bed, wondering how much more her beauty would be amplified if she were wearing a dress instead of overalls, although her face was captivating enough for his heart to be sold to her. In fact for her, he'd give it for free.

New York City was everything he thought it would be, he had always pictured it as colossal-sized pins pointing upward toward the sky, and everything held to be true. The people were rude, the food left a bitter taste, the jobs were plentiful, but the pay was terrible. Walking down the street passing peep shows for 25 cents, wholesale shops, and seeing the homeless living wherever their hopeless minds pleased; made Justine recollect homelessness is for the hopeless. Justine knew he had a hope, and a will to make it out here. Even if it was the worst job in town, it would be more than no job. Nightfall hit quickly, and it seemed as if time to find a place to sleep safely were impossible. Every park bench, every crevice, every makeshift home was already taken. Justin's first night in New York, was slept beneath a tree next to a girl who was convinced that she could talk to her "pet log" named Harry. It was a strange beginning.

After two weeks Justin had landed a job, in the manufacturing of silverware, he was classified as an "assembler", whose lone job was to package the forks into packs of one hundred in small brown boxes. It paid a quarter a day, living normally cost much more than that, so you could say. One Sunday afternoon, Justin went to the corner market and was searching for the most flawless red apple that he could buy for himself. In his peripheral he sees her, blonde hair, overalls, but that face, that face was not as beautiful as he remembered it. The weight of the world carried in her expression, as her eyes were no longer glimmering green gems, they were desolate, Justin noticed as she solemnly recognized him from a far. A look of embarrassment, and shame overcame her, then she pulled the cucumber from her pocket and placed it back with the others, and without making eye contact, slowly walked away. That was the last time Justin ever saw Lillian again. His encounter struck fear into his heart, and that was the day he decided to leave New York City



So there he was lying on the newspaper with a headline that was bluntly honest, and so apparent, how could this be news? Everyone already knew this. "Overpopulation in NYC Has Led to Major Decreases in Wages!" Justin thought, "Yeah you could write about it, you could even make charts and graphs and whatever you need to show proof of this, but in doing this, in all that effort…you're the one getting paid, and I'm the one sitting in a bathroom." He had decided that he must leave tomorrow, the city would destroy him, he needed to make it, and shoving forks in a brown box in his mind wasn't "making it". He fell asleep upon the words that shaped the economy that was falling apart, it seemed to him that, that's all it was good for.

The next day he awakened with a smile on his face, and an idea only known by him, and this is what made him excited. Excited like the first day he saw Lillian, so ready to live, and so happy to be living. He gathered his things, unlocked the bathroom door, and made his own eclectic dash toward what was this time the gate car, that lets off at the nearest freight station. This time he knew where he was going, and he knew how to get there. He became another freight train traveler searching for more than work, hoping for something more.