Saturday June 9. 12am - 6am.

We found each other easily, right at the corner of Yonge and College. Steve said he had seen a well-lit park where we could sleep, so we headed over. It was near Queen's Park, but I think a little west of the subway station. We laid down our cardboard under a stadium-esque lamp, and put Steve on duty for the first guard shift. I laid back on my makeshift mattress, with another folded cardboard box over me as a sad sort of blanket. I closed my eyes, exhausted to the bone, but pumped with adrenaline. Survival mde had kicked in. My mind was racing: I wanted to be home, I wanted to be warm, why didn't I bring a jacket, why did Jasleen win on America's Next Top Model?
I must have fallen asleep at some point, because some time later, I came to again, shivering. The day had been windy, with little sun, and by now the earth had cooled and any residual warmth had gone. Wind was creeping into the holes of the cardboard, up into my hoodie, right down to my core. I could not stop shaking. I looked around and saw Tanaya similarly trying to huddle into an ever smaller ball. We both could not sleep, it was too cold.
We woke everyone else up. Mika was fast asleep, but he'd served in the army in Finland, so go figure. Having no other choice, we walked back to College Park. We decided to go to the 24-hour Dominion's to buy something to eat. Mika and Hanna wanted to get a loaf of bread; they had been mentioning that idea all day. I guess they really miss the bread they eat in Finland, I think it's rye. My attention was stolen by a vegetarian focaccia, which I will adoringly remember as the Pizza Bread. It was greasy and beautiful, ornate with its different coloured peppers, and smelled fantastic - it was a memoir of the life I'd left. With the five dollars I'd gotten earlier, it was affordable, at four dollars, but it would not leave much for tomorrow. I clung to the Pizza Bread as we all walked over to the cereal aisle, after Tanaya suggested we buy a box of cereal.
It was another long headache, trying to choose between the classic Life cereal or the cinnamon one. We ended up getting the classic one because it was 650 g instead of 590. Everything was about cost efficiency now.
"I vote against getting the Pizza Bread," Steve suddenly opined.
I recoiled, as if he'd personally attacked me.
"Yeah, it looks sort of greasy," Tanaya put in.
What, like suddenly homeless people don't eat greasy food? What was there left to live for?
"Plus, I don't like any of the toppings on it."
This whole communist idea was not working for me. It was my five dollars, that Tracy and Lucia gave to me. How did this suddenly turn into a group decision? I would've found a way to make the Pizza Bread last for the rest of the day. But we were a team, after all. Together we'd survive more easily. This was no time for dissension. But I couldn't hold myself back. "Y'all are Nazis," I snapped bitterly, and turned back to put away the focaccia. I was too tired and too hungry to wonder if I was being politically correct.
We bought the cereal and sat in the food court, eating it. The minutes crawled by... the hours loitered there with us, refusing to bring us any closer to the end of this journey. Finally we sneaked into the centre of the food court where some tables were sectioned off by low walls, to steal some sleep. Steve laid down under some chairs in the corner, and Tanaya put her head down on one of the tables. I laid myself across three chairs in the middle and closed my eyes, remembering the time when I did that in the dining room at home when I was younger. With the tablecloth spilling over the edges of the table, I was invisible. My parents ran all around the house looking for me. What I wouldn't give to hear their panicked voices, and jump out to surprise them. To be home again.

"Wakey-wakey! Time to get up!"
We woke to the shuffling of bodies, scraping of chairs on the ground, and two large security guards moving through the mess of tables. Frantically we got up, wide-eyed and still groggy at the same time. What do we do? Run?
The security guards told us there's no sleeping in here. Didn't we have some place to go? Steve said no. They said, What happened? Did you guys get kicked out?
We all looked at each other. We'd never worked out our stories all together. So we said ... Yes.
The security guards were bewildered. All of you?
Well... said Deb. We all have different stories.
You've gotta be kidding me, the guards laughed.

So, they busted us. So we weren't really homeless. They were pretty cool with us being there. People are always there till all hours, and it was fine, especially since we were buying from Dominion's and just hanging out. But, there's no sleeping here. They wouldn't have to kick us out since we're not being rowdy or on drugs, but we just have to find a way to keep our heads up.
Thanks, we said. And they left (probably still laughing). It makes very little sense, I think, that there's all this open unused space, and we're not being rowdy or on drugs, and we can hang out here, but we just can't sleep. But, rules are rules. So we kept each other awake for a little bit longer, and then went on a quest for a Tim Hortons; Tanaya said there's one at Bay and Charles.
When we arrived, we counted out some loose change. We bought an extra-large hot chocolate, and got extra cups to share it. I thought back to not too long ago, when I was sat in DC during exams with an XL half-and-half. I usually don't take any more than a large, but John Jeung had bought it for me. I had downed it greedily, only to find that the caffeine made me too jittery to study for the rest of the day. But that was a long time ago. Now, we sipped our hot chocolate modestly, savouring it, hoping for some sort of Elijah miracle where the cup would never be empty. Mika had fallen asleep at the table again somehow, but the rest of us were just anxious for the sun to come up so we could go back outside to lie down. We chatted and tried to keep each other's spirits up, but tensions were high and nerves were taut. We made pleasantries and safe jokes, like fairies tiptoeing around landmines.
Around five thirty, the sky began to brighten. It was no longer the putrid black of cold earth and frozen spirits; it was still grey, but the little bit of light beginning to creep upon the city was enough to give us a glimmer of hope that might sustain us over the next day.
We left the Tim Hortons, aware that it was nearly time to switch groups and go on our ways again. Sleep was on the forefont of all of our minds. Nothing else mattered. We just wanted to rest.
Clustered together on the sidewalk, huddled together for warmth, we prayed. Steve said the words that we all knew in our hearts, but dared not breathe, for fear that acknowledgement would mean defeat: "God, this sucks." Amen, I thought. I didn't even hear anything else he said. Maybe something like asking for strength, and safety, or whatever. But all I could think was, God, this sucks. Why am I here? Why am I doing this? How do people do this?
As we lifted our heads, my shoulders felt a little bit lighter. Or maybe I was just getting lightheaded and delirious. Steve, Tanaya, and I waved goodbye to our nighttime companions, and walked off in search of a sanctuary.