Sink+or+Swim

Sink or Swim

My name is Brad O’Brien I was born and raised in St. Louis, Missouri. I am 16 years old. I was beaten by my father who was a drunk and could never seem to maintain a job. I was an only child and my mother had run away from my dad and me when I was 3 years old because he beat her when he got drunk. One night my dad came home very late and came into my room and punched me repeatedly in the face saying I was a worthless human that was better off dead than alive. When he left my room I wiped the blood off my nose and packed everything I needed. Tonight I was going to run away from home forever. I opened the window and I went towards the rails. I was leaving my father forever. I know now after many years of reflection that he was badly depressed when he lost his job in the textile mill. In addition he was never able to recover financially from his misery and eventually the bank took his house because dad could never pay his debts. But none of those reasons excuses his uncontrolled anger and abuse. My Dad always had had anger problems it was just something he always had to do deal with but one day he went to bank and found out all of his money was gone, it had all been lost. From then on he lost it couldn’t control his anger he would bottle up anger during the day during work and at night come home and beat the crap out of me. I kind of felt bad for him, but at the same time I needed to get out of there or else I would’ve been killed before my 18th birthday. I was traveling alone I never made any friends because my father forbid me from attending school so I was never educated. I didn’t know how to read or write. I wanted to be anywhere but home I hated my father and my mother was a blur to me. I snuck by the railroad police officers preventing teenagers like me from trying to sneak onto the train. I jumped into one of the cars towards the middle of the train. It was there I would meet my first and closest friends for my journey away from home and begin the process achieving my goal to get a job. My friend Eric Oberg had ran away from his family as well about a month ago after his father broke the news they could no longer support him and his 3 sisters so being the oldest he would have to take on the world by himself. He was emotional when explaining to me why he had to leave because he was so close to them but he knew it was best for his family. Feeding ourselves was a struggle. Some hobos went days without eating anything at all. I prepared myself with food by packing the loaf of bread I took from my father when I left. I could only imagine the look on his face knowing his food and me were both gone. We rode the train for a week straight before entering California. I had overheard other hobos talking how the West was much more promising than the North for job opportunities Eric and I hopped off the train and walked to “The Jungle”. The Jungle was a dirty filthy disgusting place located not far from where the train stop was. It was a place for us hobo’s to congregate and discuss our travels where we were headed, talk about our families and just rest and hang out. There were millions of flies flying over us. I tried to lie down and sleep for a little but a swarm of 100 flies landed on me. I felt like a dead squirrel laying there letting the flies eat me alive. I missed home but I knew I would have a better chance of staying alive here than being home and getting beat up by my Dad. I stayed one night in “The Jungle” and I vowed and hoped I would never ever be in one again. The next morning I awoke to Eric shaking me telling me we had to run because the train was just about ready to head off once more to our final destination. I gathered all my belongings and waited for the perfect moment to hop on the moving train. Eric hopped on with ease I let him go first because I wanted to make sure he got on first before me. He got on and then it was my turn the train was moving at roughly 20mph I made a leap but over jumped the train and all I saw was the wheels.