Creative Writing: The Homeless Man

I walked the same way to work everyday, just to pass by the homeless man who was always on the corner. He wasn't like the other people who lived on the streets, he never begged passing strangers for their spare change. There would just be a cup next to him to drop what you could. He was constantly shouting but no one was there, many people hurried by him staring and laughing.
Not me. I'd always have a handful of loose change to put in his cup each morning. He'd stop yeling long enough to say "thank you". All though this morning was different he was crying and thru his tears he muttered "Please Stop IT". That got the attention of every person on the street.
"You ruined my life, you were supposed to love me!" He trembled.
Not one person in

He forced him out of the large green door into the cold, black night and slammed it shut. Bang after bang the sound of small fists against the door while he begged for his father to open the door "Papa, Papa let me in please!"
With each horrified scream the boy let out his father turned up the t.v louder and louder until the child wasn't able to be heard. I couldn't understand how someone who's supposed to protect their child was able to lock them outside with no clothes. The snap of an opening beer drew my attention to the chair and my heart filled with hatred for a man I'd never met before. Morning soon followed, for me it felt like minutes as for him it was probably a life time. His father finally asleep snored in his chair.
"Tanner get your ass back here" he grumbled.
Tanner? Was that his name? It had to be, I never seen anyone else around besides and overly intoxicated man and the little boy. The more his dad drank the worse it got and Tanner was a tough boy, even tho he shouldn't of had to be tough like this. "Tough Tanner" I thought to

The boy knew better anyway the inebriated man went back to go pass out in his chair. I turned to the window when a board creaked and there he was standing on his tip toes peeping in. He raced off the porch to the back of the house and opened the door of a small shed, he grabbed a red canister. Almost tripping up the steps, he lightly twisted the door handle desperately not to make a single sound. Quietly he navigated around his father faithful seat, pouring gas all around it and back to the door. When he felt his feet touch the wooden porch he reached for the pack of matches in the window. If took a few tries before one finally caught he lifted his head at the doorway at his sleeping father and dropped it. Fire and smoke overwhelmed the small rooms while he closed the front door. His father lounged out of his chair and tried running to the door that was blocked by roaring flames his eyes franticly searched around for his boy. That was until he locked eyes with him from outside of the window, falling to his knees. "Tanner help Daddy"......"PLEASE" He