Homeless Youth Stories Novels & Stories

"Yes, yes. I was wrong. I'll make it up to you, okay?" … Later, I was discharged from the hospital, and Mabel's problem was resolved. Thanks to the police's hard work, Lee—who was the leader of a gang who extorted people after taking intimate photos of them without their permission—and his men were nabbed and punished. Meanwhile, I agreed to start dating Jeremy after he pursued me properly for some time. It was hard to keep up with a younger man's stamina at times, but it didn't bring me down.

This is what he always does whenever he wants to avoid any conversation that he’s guilty of. “They were just kids..”Larry went on. “These are the same kids that stole my wallet..” Henry explained. “No, they are the same kids. Stop tagging them out to be a terror to society. They were never really given much choice, if our government was working well they wouldn't be out there in the streets trying to survive.” Larry spoke up for the homeless kids in the streets.

After a brief moment of thought, I strode quickly toward the wards and sought out a few homeless patients I had grown close to. I invited them to move to my place! Victor Connor, a man betrayed by his ex-wife and left with HIV, looked at me in shock. “Dr. Young, I may be homeless, but I can’t stay at your place. After all, I’m…” Mrs. Warren, an elderly woman infected with syphilis by her late husband, waved her hands anxiously. “Oh no, no, no! Dr. Young, you’re such a kind person. You’ve already done so much for me. You bring me food every day because I’ve got no one to care for me. I couldn’t possibly trouble you further!”

“I was nothing. Less than nothing. I remember that I had always been alone, I didn't know why my parents were, nor do I have any memories of when I was a child. I don’t know if I was born in the streets or if I ended up there, but I know that I grew up starving. I used to eat grass to survive. Once, I even drank my urine because of how dehydrated I was and no one wanted to spare me a little bit of water. People don’t help you when you’re a child on the streets. They use you. They break you. And when you’re no longer of any use, they throw you away.” Yasmin’s expression shifted, her lips parting slightly in shock, but I barely noticed. “I learned quickly that begging was pointless. That kindn

We had a lot in common as he was homeless for a few years, after leaving home after his mom’s abusive boyfriend beat him badly when he was 15. Eric met a man when he was 16, who helped him turn everything around, he gave him somewhere to live, paid for him to get set up. Eric then found a job and decided to study in the meantime. He was now a computer technician. Eric invited me to stay with him, at first, I thought he wanted me to have sex with him, but that wasn’t the case. Eric was just kind. He would come back to the tent I lived in every day. He would bring me soup, sandwiches, bottles of water and hygiene products. I started to trust him. He didn’t want anything from me. One day, he in

Dolly didn't have the support to do it on her own. Dolly couldn't live with Amy. She couldn't live with Joe's parents. She was faced with all the demands of parenthood, as a teenager, no means of financial support. Joe was in prison and could not support her. She was confronted with homeless people. She knew that the baby could not survive if she was homeless. It could not survive. Homeless shelters battered women's shelters and transitional shelters would not accommodate teenagers under the age of seventeen. The shelters would not take in small children. Young mothers who are homeless face many small hurdles such as poverty and education.

Blue had clarified that homeless BOYS got raped. Sometimes they crashed along with other people in vacant apartments as if they were squatters. Sometimes there were impromptu parties going on with a DJ and rappers and the atmosphere was like static! They called those RAVES. He had lots of fun, not used to parties since he'd never been invited to any while at home. Of course, it wasn't always good for him to be where there was so much movement and action as it triggered seizures or migraines. There were times when they slept in buildings that doubled as crack houses and once some crazy man had robbed everyone by syringe point, stating that the needle was infected with HIV. Of course, he h

“Now, as to my reason for dropping by. I’m having a bake sale to raise money for the new shelter for homeless kids and I would love it if you could come. It’s this weekend and I already checked with your PA to know you have nothing planned so don’t even think about giving me an excuse.” “Mum, I’ve told you before, I can give you enough money to build a hundred shelters and I’m sure Cade, Emily and Jared could sponsor a hundred more. Why do you need a bake sale for Christ’s sake?” The three brothers owed their lives to Homewood, the shelter for homeless kids run by Bernie and Martha Lachlan. Ethan still had memories of living on the streets, after runningaway from his home to escape his step

The pain is a grinding, hollow ache, but it's the hunger that is truly the worst. It claws at my stomach, making every frantic breath shallow and sharp. But I can't stop. I have to keep going, keep putting distance between myself and that crumbling prison—the place I once called "home." Now, it's just The Dubois Orphanage, a name that tastes like ash. Now, it's Hell. I am running from hell at all costs, escaping the devil in the guise of Mr. Dubois. Last night, the sick old man finally crossed the line. His dirty paws. The thought alone sends a wave of revulsion so strong I have to spit on the pavement just to clear the taste. My eighteenth birthday wasn't a celebration; it was the trigger f

"Car accident. When I was six. My relatives took me in for a while, but 'family' is just a word people use to justify treating you like a burden. They used me as a punching bag and a maid until I walked out last year. I’m not smart like you, Harris. I don't have a scholarship. I just have two hands and a lot of bad luck." ​He told me he’d been kicked out of his last job at a cafeteria for asking for too many cash advances. He was homeless, sleeping in parks, and hiding his hunger behind a loud mouth. We were the same, I realized. Two orphans in a city that didn't care if we lived or died. The only difference was that I had Mr. Baker, and I had a roof. ​"Do you really need a job?" I asked, st