The Anastasia Chronicles: The Unspoken Rules of Room 222
Updated: 4 days ago
Ana woke up from the pavement with an unusual amount of hope in her spirit that morning. It was still dark outside—perfect fall weather. She was sleeping behind a stunning temple that happened to feature something she had never encountered before on her homeless journey: heated concrete.
The first night she slept there in sixty-degree weather, Ana thought she was tripping. She had woken up so warm throughout the night that she actually had to peel off a few layers and kick back her light blanket. It was the ideal location—completely hidden away from the public. She had stumbled upon the spot a few nights ago... and so had another homeless man.
Anastasia was normally very leery about sleeping near other people outdoors, especially men. But something in her gut told her it was safe. Even though this man had apparently discovered the heated ground too, it became their unspoken secret. She didn't sleep in the exact same spot every night, but whenever she did, she’d run into Mr. Redhead. He looked much younger than her—a white guy in his late twenties or early thirties.
They made eye contact, but never said a word. It was an unwritten rule out here: Don’t bother me, and I won’t bother you. Don’t touch my stuff, and I won’t touch yours and never under any circumstance pee in anyone's spot! Ana always found it fascinating how much non-verbal communication happened between unhoused people. You let your eyes and actions do the speaking; most of the time, words weren't necessary.
Mr. Redhead settled onto his pallet not long after Ana, completely silent. A few minutes later, he got up and walked a short distance away to talk on his phone. Naturally, Ana had to pee at the most inconvenient time. She rose from her pallet and found a bush just past where he was standing. He gave her a look like, Dang... you see me on the phone, why are you coming down here? But Ana didn't mind. She wasn't paying attention to his phone call, nor did she care that she was pulling her pants down behind a bush near a total stranger, she just wanted to pee, get in bed, and go to sleep.
He stepped even further away. He probably thinks I'm a creep, Ana chuckled to herself as she wiped and pulled her pants back up. She tossed the napkin into a nearby dumpster and walked back to her pallet on the temple’s warm pavement.
The area was immaculate. Even outdoors, Ana sought out prime real estate; she refused to sleep just anywhere. She lay back down, took off her shoes, and placed them neatly at her feet. She consolidated her two bags, tucking them securely between her body and the wall along the ramp.
Looking up at the grand structure above her, she giggled quietly. This reminds me of the castle in Shrek. Ana loved animated movies like Shrek and Tangled.
The air that night was spectacular—sixty degrees was the absolute sweet spot for sleeping outside. On nights like this, she’d pretend in her mind that she was just camping out by choice.
"Heavenly Father, thank You for this beautiful day and for giving me a safe space to rest," she prayed softly. "Lord, I ask that You watch over me, guard me, and keep me in all my ways as I sleep tonight. Thank You, Lord, for being a God who never slumbers nor sleeps. I ask forgiveness for my sins and iniquities, and I repent of all sins known and unknown. Lord, thank You for turning my situation around for Your glory. Thank You for shelter, for improving my quality of life, and for opening doors of opportunity. Show me how to generate generational wealth that will benefit my family and descendants to come, in Jesus' name I pray. Amen."
Most nights, Ana made sure to begin and end her day in prayer. It didn't always happen, though. Some days she was so drained and hopeless, feeling like God wasn't listening... but He was.
Just as Ana rolled over to face the wall, Mr. Redhead walked past without making eye contact, heading straight to his own spot to sleep. He didn't even have a bag—just a tiny blanket, a t-shirt, and shorts. Apparently, we're dressed for two completely different seasons, Ana mused. Soon he was asleep, and so was Ana. Not a car or person in sight, exactly how she liked it—far from traffic, hidden from pedestrians, and safe from unexpected cars.
When her alarm went off at 5:30 AM, Ana shut it off and sat up. Mr. Redhead had already bounced before she woke up most days. Once again, an unusual wave of optimism washed over her. It was like that some days, especially when she drew close to God. A sudden nudge told her to get up and head toward the nearest Wi-Fi signal to call the local women's shelter.
Logically, it made no sense. She had called this shelter countless times before, only to hear the same response: "We're filled to capacity."
Eventually, she had given up asking altogether. But that subtle push in her spirit kept insisting: Try again.
So she did.
Ana folded her blankets, tucked them into a waterproof bag, and stashed them away. She walked with intention toward a nearby building where she was ninety percent sure she could catch a signal—and sure enough, it connected. With the shelter’s number already saved in her phone, she dialed.
A voice answered on the other end: "Landing Pad, this is Deborah speaking. How can I help you?"
"Good morning! My name is Anastasia Blair, and I'm calling to see if you have an available bed for a single woman?"
Ms. Deborah paused. "Uhhh, let's see here... do you have any kids?"
"No, ma'am, it's just me," Ana replied.
"Where are you located right now?"
"I'm actually right around the corner from your building... easy walking distance."
"How fast can you get here?" Ms. Deborah asked. "If you can get here by 7:00 AM, I have a spot available for you."
Caught completely off guard, Ana smiled wide. "Sure thing! I'm on my way right now."
A huge wave of relief washed over her. The weather had been mild, but the forecast was warning of cooler days ahead with rain. Ana had survived sleeping outdoors in twenty-degree weather before, but if she could secure a clean, warm bed, she was taking it. Understanding that The Landing Pad was just a stepping stone rather than a long-term destination, she skipped down the street. She never relied on a shelter as her end-all-be-all—that’s what God was for—and she knew in her gut He was leading this step.
I don't know how long You'll have me here, God, she thought, but I'm so grateful You opened this door at just the right time.
As she reached the entrance, Ana paused on the steps, looked up toward the The Landing Pad signage, and whispered, "Lord, may Your peace and grace be upon me and everyone in this shelter as I enter, in Jesus' name. Amen."
She pushed through the first set of double doors, arriving at the secure inner entrance. Through the glass, the desk clerk looked up and buzzed her through. Bubbly as ever, Ana walked up to the window with a bright smile.
"I'm Ana! You must be Ms. Deborah. I'm the one who just called."
Unamused and uninterested in small talk, the lady looked up at Ana, then immediately glanced back down at a clipboard filled with paperwork.
"Valid state ID or driver's license please and please fill out this paperwork thoroughly," Ms. Deborah instructed. "Do not leave any section blank, and bring it back up to the window when you're done."
Ana reached into her bag, pulled out her wallet, and slid her Florida state ID through the opening. "Here you go."
The lady looked down at the card and back at Ana. She took it back to the copier while Ana went over to sit down in the lobby area.
A few minutes later, Ms. Deborah walked out into the lobby to hand Ana's ID back to her. "Is Florida your hometown?"
"Ah, okay... what part?" the lady asked.
Not to say this woman possessed a monitoring spirit, but Ana was well aware of their games and schemes. Living on the streets had sharpened her sense of discernment, making her deeply attuned to the spiritual atmosphere and the intentions of those around her. Most of the time, Ana knew instinctively what was safe to reveal and what needed to stay hidden.
Knowing all of this, Ana kept it brief: "Bellemar."
"Ohh okay, how did you like it?" the lady asked, suddenly chatty. "My sister keeps trying to get me to move down there, but I don't know. Think I prefer having all four seasons like we have here."
Ana was slightly taken aback. Given how short Ms. Deborah had been with her over the phone and just moments ago at the desk, why was she all of a sudden interested in her background?
Instincts kicking in, Ana established a firm line in her mind right then and there: she was only going to divulge so much information to a complete stranger at a shelter she had literally just entered. She knew better.
Ana handed over the clipboard of paperwork she had filled out in a rush. She was anxious to get up to her room, put her things down, and head back outside to keep her regular morning routine moving.
"All done," she said, sliding the clipboard back to Ms. Deborah.
Ms. Deborah stepped behind the front-desk glass and slid the window open, flipping through the pages to make sure every line was complete.
"Everything looks good. Here is your key—you’re in room 222," she said. "I’ll walk you up and show you around."
Ms. Deborah led the way into the elevator and pressed the button for the second floor. When the doors slid open, they stepped out into the hallway. This was far from Ana's first shelter, so she felt completely confident stepping onto the floor like she had been there before. Based on the initial look of the place, she already had a pretty good idea of what to expect: buzzing yellow fluorescent lighting, pale yellow walls, and heavy brown doors with metal handles.
For the most part, they kept the building clean, but it definitely wasn't modern. Knowing The Landing Pad received tons of funding and donations every year, Ana couldn't understand for the life of her why they didn't use some of those funds to renovate the place and make it feel a little less institutional.
"Here are the showers and bathrooms," Ms. Deborah said, pointing down the hall. "We just ask that after you take a shower, you leave the restroom fully dressed—not wrapped in a towel. We have parents with teenage boys living on this floor, so we just want to keep things respectful for everyone."
Unimpressed, Ana glanced down at the time on her phone. "Sure, no problem."
They finally reached room 222. Ms. Deborah inserted the key into the lock and swung the door open.
Even though it was early morning, it was still dark outside and the room was pitch black. Ms. Deborah flicked on the overhead switch. "I'm going to turn this light on for just a moment, ladies. Good morning! This is your new roommate, Anastasia."
An older white woman laying in the bed to the left of the door—in her late fifties with short brunette hair—popped her head right up, looking a little caught off guard. "Good morning! I'm Norma. Nice to meet you, Anastasia."
Ana gave her a subtle wave, wondering to herself how the lady had so much energy that early in the morning without coffee. "Nice to meet you, too."
"Is she awake?" Ms. Deborah whispered to Norma, pointing toward the second bed.
The second roommate was a young, appearing to be biracial light-skinned girl—short, cute, with pretty, sleepy eyes and a full frame. She was lying on her stomach wearing what Ana considered straight-up booty underwear, though most women called them athleisure shorts, with her booty tooted upward.
She rolled over, glanced up at Ana and Ms. Deborah, then immediately flipped back onto her belly and closed her eyes without saying anything. She acted completely unimpressed, annoyed, or maybe a seamless mix of both.
Noticing how cold the young girl was being, Norma quickly chimed in to break the ice. "And that's Bridget. But don't mind her—we're all cool in here, man, and we love Jesus!"
Ana instantly felt a wave of relief washing over her as she looked at Norma. I like her vibe already, Ana thought. Friendly, bubbly, and loves Jesus. For once, they actually put me in the right room.
Ms. Deborah handed Ana her key. "Welcome to The Landing Pad—make yourself at home."
Without offering any further instructions, rules, or orientation, Ms. Deborah closed the door behind her and headed back down to the front desk.
Ana didn't mind the lack of direction at all; she could navigate shelter life with her eyes closed.
Ana glanced down at the blue mattress to check for any nasty bed crumbs or stains. Finding none, she reached into her bag for a few baby wipes and her trusty hand sanitizer. She squeezed five or six drops onto the wipes and began scrubbing down the bed thoroughly. No matter how cute, modern, or clean a shelter appeared on the surface, doing her own deep clean was always step one.
Norma looked over from her bunk, taking in the scene. "I think you're going to like it in here with us. We're pretty chill, man."
Even though Norma was a bit older than Ana, there was something remarkably young, fresh, and vibrant about her. She gave off a carefree, hippie-bubbly vibe that was right up Ana's alley.
"I sure hope so," Ana replied, noticing a stack of clean linens folded neatly on the nightstand beside her bed.
She reached for the sheets and began dressing the mattress. But as she pulled out the dingy, plastic-feeling blanket, holding it up, her face fell. This ain't gonna work, she thought to herself. I hate the texture, and it looks dirty.
Noticing the expression on Ana's face, Norma chimed right in. "They'll give you a new one. Just take that down to the desk and ask if you can swap it out for a fresh one. Oh—and breakfast is at 8:00 AM."
Ana was impressed by how intuitive Norma was. She was reading the room and picking up on Ana's silent cues effortlessly.
"That's wassup. Thanks—I think I will do that, because this definitely ain't it."
"No problem," Norma said, settling back down and pulling her own blanket up over her head. "If you need anything or have any questions, just let me know. Curfew is at 10:00 PM."
To Ana, Norma was like the shelter's unofficial orientation ambassador—who just so happened to be her cool new roommate.
Ana finished making her bed, grabbed the two bags she came in with (leaving nothing in the room—she just met these people), and headed back downstairs to the lobby with the plastic-y white blanket in hand.
She stepped up to the front desk, offering a warm smile and a light knock on the glass. A different clerk was sitting there now—not the one who had handled her intake.
Sliding the window open, the woman looked up, appearing thoroughly annoyed. "Yess?"
"Hi! I was wondering if I could swap this out for a different blanket, please?" Ana asked.
"And what’s wrong with the one you have?" the dark-skinned older lady asked, eyeing her up and down.
"It’s a little dirty, and I'm not crazy about the texture," Ana replied, trying her best to strike a balance between humble, grateful, and honest.
The lady paused, staring at Ana over the rim of her glasses for five solid seconds with a look that screamed, The nerve of you. Finally, she broke the silence. "Just leave the blanket right there on the ledge. We'll get you another one."
Ana had been fully prepared for a hard "no," so the concession caught her off guard.
"Oh...okay... so just leave it... right here?" Ana confirmed.
"Yes," the clerk replied, already glancing back down at her phone and sliding the window close, completely uninterested.
"Alright, thanks!"
Ana left the blanket on the ledge and pushed through the double doors, slid on her sunglasses, stepping back outside to dive into her regular routine. Next up: heading toward the nearby soup kitchen, where she might just run into her crush, Mr. Carhartt.
Who knew this would be the highlight of my day? she smiled to herself.
With the morning sun just beginning to peek over the horizon, the sounds of urban life filled the air—footsteps echoing off the pavement, pedestrians shuffling past, the inner city slowly stirring awake. Ana took a deep breath and thought:
"This is looking up to be a wonderful day."
~ Written by Tashia L. McLayea
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