1 A Series Of Unfortunate Events.

"Aye, get off the road yer bloody vagabond!" An old rickety carriage barely avoided swerving off the damaged roadway trying to avoid a young child, a beggar, that was lying in the middle of the street, basking leisurely in the pouring rain. The carriage driver quickly brought the vehicle back into the right lane and turned his head back to the child that he just shouted at. Seeing that the child had yet to move, his anger burst forth as he screamed at the top of his lungs, "Ye damned loiter-sack! Get off the bloody road! If yer want to die, stop making life harder for others and just throw yerself off Burnham bridge!" The man aggressively whipped the horses and drove away in the carriage, leaving the young boy sprawled out on the road. In truth, he couldn't move. He had been laying there for about an hour, waiting for the cold embrace of death. Many times he was close, most times people avoided running him over. Unfortunately, not everyone had the decency to avoid or help a young child that was 'down in the dumps' on the streets. This was proven by the multitude of wheel marks embedded on his four mangled limbs. The scent of blood and the sound of heavy breathing rang out faintly in the middle of noisy mud-ridden streets of Old London. As his listless eyes fluttered slowly in an effort to ward off the rain, the child thought back to the constant tragedies of his short-lived life. From the promiscuous acts of his mother in an effort to change her poverty-stricken life, causing his unwanted birth; to his immediate abandonment as soon as he learned to walk, and finally, the slave labor he endured for 4 years before he found his mother again. Even with all the time she had to get herself together, the wretched woman was still living at the absolute bottom of society. Her hair disheveled, her eyes gray and the smell of sex adorned her body like she was a wet dog. Of course, the child had no idea that she was his mother but maybe because of a woman's intuition, she recognized him. Her eyes slightly regained some luster as she moved her crusted lips, saying, "Abel, ohh my Abel, is that you?" Hearing the woman calling his name, Abel turned and looked at her in shock. Gripping the mold-filled potato in his hands even tighter, Abel looked at her with timid eyes. "How do you know my name?" Now that she heard his voice, a burst of life suddenly erupted forth as she jumped off from her cloth bed and gripped him on the shoulders tightly, shouting, "Abel! Abel! It's me, your mother! Do you remember me? Have you found a family? Quick give me that potato! Your mother is hungry!" The surrounding pedestrians looked on in disgust as they watched the woman snatch the potato out of Abel's arms. "Blasted lowlifes. How could folks act like such animals?", they thought. No one stepped forward to stop the woman or help Abel. It was a sorry sight. "No! Please, this is my only meal for today! I can't give it to- ugh!" Despite Abel's frantic pleading, the woman pushed him to the ground, causing him to let go of the potato. Frightened but infuriated, Abel used his measly strength to push himself up and jumped towards the woman again, intending to retake his meal. "You little urchin!" The woman kicked Abel in his chest, sending him back into a pedestrian, a middle-aged man, who was just passing. When Abel's dirty clothing collided with his, the man grabbed Abel by the collar and tossed him out in the street like a piece of garbage without even bothering to look at him again. Almost as if on cue, the rain slowly started falling, causing the muddy road to become even more dangerous. Abel placed his hands on the road and tried to pick himself up but unfortunately, he slipped right back down. His heart was in anguish as he watched his first meal of the day being devoured by a woman he didn't know, who also claimed to be his mother. How could he believe that? He had seen other children have their mothers taking care of them so he believed that maybe his mother hated him. Regardless though, it was still a hard pill to swallow. He couldn't figure out why his mother didn't want to take care of him. Maybe she died? Who knew? But he figured what if he managed to survive until adulthood, he would make it his lifelong goal to find out what happened to his mother. Unfortunately, life wasn't going to play out that way. An expensive-looking carriage came speeding down the road, heading straight to Abel with no intention of stopping. Putting his hands up to signal that he was laying on the road, Abel hoped that maybe they would offer some assistance. But again, almost as if life was against him, the carriage didn't slow down at all. CRUNCHHH!! The carriage ran over his little body, crushing his bones like glass under the overpowering force of a hammer. His ribs, neck, limbs, and sternum were all crushed immediately, leaving him lying in the street motionless. This was how he arrived at his current situation. The fact that he didn't die on the spot was a miracle in itself. 'Why...is this happening to me? What have I done wrong? Why...does everyone hate me?' At this moment, these were the thoughts that were plaguing his mind. His short life was filled with too many hardships for someone of his age to handle. As his vision slowly faded, he saw the silhouettes of many people standing over him, some of them trying to help him while some stood over him with ridicule on their faces. But at this moment, those facts were irrelevant to him. The grip of death had already taken hold of him. His last thoughts weren't of himself, the few friends he made in the factory, or even of his mother, who at this point, had already left the scene before she could be caught. They were of something more primal, more instinctual. 'At least when I die...I hope that I wouldn't be...hungry...ever...again...'

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