(1)

"FUCK FUCK FUCK" It's the only word running through my head. I see an alley- way up ahead I take it running full speed. I turn my head back and sure enough these assholes are still chasing me. I'm running like a professional sprinter through this alley-way but I just cant get away. They are faster than me. I hear the footsteps of my chasers getting closer and closer. The louder the footsteps get the more I can feel the hope leaving my body. Tears run down my face as I stop and turn towards the guys chasing me. I pull the wallet that I took from one of the pursuers and I tossed it on the ground between us.

"What the fuck do you think your doing?" I can't respond I just let more tears flow down my face. I'm such a worthless idiot. I can't even plead my case. I can't tell him why I took his wallet. I'm just too afraid to speak. The man whose wallet I took seems to be around 20 years old. A foot and a half taller than me. I had no chance to get away from the start.

"Pick up the wallet and hand it to me." The man demands. I comply and pick up the wallet. Tears still flowing down my face, I can't meet his gaze. I shuffle my feet until i'm in front of him.

"How old are you? 14?" I nod my head.

"The fuck does a boy like you have to steal for?" I just put my head down. He grabs my hair and violently snaps my head back.

"Speak." He commands. The fear of staying quiet overwhelms the fear of speaking. I manage to muster out a single word.

"... Food." I can taste the salt from the tears entering my mouth, his hand still holding tightly on to my hair. I can see the look of pity from his two friends that also chased me. Those looks broke me. I start sobbing uncontrollably I'm so fed up with this life I can't control myself I start screaming.

"IM SO SORRY, IM SORRY, IM SORRY, PLEASE DONT HURT ME, IM SO SORRY. I DONT WANT TO STEAL. I DONT WANT TO LIVE OUT HERE. I WANT A HOME, I WANT A FAMILY, IM SORRY, IM SORRY, IM SORRY!" Snot is running down my nose, tears are escaping my eyes, and I can only plea. The mans face fades from anger and changes to sadness. I can see a single tear also roll down his face. He lets go of me and opens his wallet and hands me a 20 dollar bill. Without another word he turns around and walks out of the alley with his friends. I just collapse to my knees. I've only been out here in this city for 2 months but surviving is getting harder. I think about going to the police station and trying to get back into foster care but I look down to my arms and see the burn scars. I'd rather be dead than going back to the foster care system. I was going to buy food tonight but this exchange made me lose my appetite. Guess i'll just go home.

There's this big hotel on the corner of Flann and Jefferson. Behind this hotel is my home. It's an old maintenance shed that seems to be older than the rest of the buildings around. No once uses it but the door to the shed is locked. Luckily there's a hole in the back that only someone as small as me can squeeze through. I walk behind the hotel towards my home where I see Tasha in front of the shed. She's wearing fish netting on her legs with incredibly short shorts and a super low cut shirt. She's a prostitute. At first she didn't like a kid being around on her corner. She said it's bad for business. It was when I first ran away from my foster parents, when she denied me the only suitable place I had to stay I started to cry. I guess she felt bad for me enough to let me stay because after the tears she agreed to let me stay as long as I stay out of sight during the night.

"Hey." I say. She inspects my face, my eyes are still red from crying.

"You okay?" I just nod my head. It's an unwritten rule out here that no one talks about their troubles, the reason for that is everyone out on the streets have troubles and you're troubles aren't special. Not even a little bit.

"Here you can have this." She hands me a plastic bag with a take out container inside. I throw the bag down and open the container. Half a tuna melt with some french fries. I wanted to start crying again. I'm just emotional today. I give her a hug. She's my only friend out here. The only resemblance of a maternity figure i've had in what seems like a very very long time. She wont even smoke in front of me because she knows that cigarettes make me feel uneasy.

"This isn't the place for a young boy to be, you should really get some help." I hear her words and nod. The words get through to me but I cant take them to heart. I cant go back to the foster system. We break off the hug, she gets a call on her phone and waves goodbye as she walks back towards the corner. I go to the back of the shed and crawl through the small hole. I sit on the folding chair I took from the hotel convention center and eat my meal. When I sit alone in the dark it's easy to start thinking of "what ifs." What if my parents never died in that crash, what if my sister ended up in the same foster home as me, what if I couldn't protect her if she did, what if I don't see her again, and what if I die out here? It's already late. I have a meeting with someone called a "liaison" tomorrow. I was trying to figure out a way to go back to school, I looked it up on a computer at a local library if it was even possible. Some distracts have a special person to help kids like me enroll into schools. I tell him my situation and he relays it to schools. I pull out the twenty dollar bill from my pocket and stare at it. I don't think I have ever held this much money before. I've decided I'm going to use it to wash the little amount of clothes and to buy some soap and shampoo. There's a lady at the YMCA who lets me shower for free. I think there are truly kind people in the world but it's hard for me to trust. My foster parents had a kind mask on when I first met them too, but they were the furthest thing from kind.