Prolouge: Escape

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The darkness of night wrapped itself around the boy in a bitter embrace. He huddled against the rough brick wall of an alleyway, praying that his pursuers wouldn't see him. Trash bags and broken bottles littered the ground, and his desperate hope was that, in his grimy black hoodie, he blended in just enough to avoid their gaze.

   Footsteps rang out on the street nearby. Rough, low voices murmured to each other, inaudible to the boys ears.

   In the cold air, each of his faltering breaths came in a puff of frigid whiteness. The savage bruises on his chest ached with each expansion of his lungs, a constant reminder of the reason for his escape.

   No matter what happened, he would never go back. Even if it meant dying in the attempt to leave.

   The footsteps faded into the distance, lost in the tumultuous sounds of city's night life.

   Alone in a deserted alleyway, the boy stared up at the dim stars of a sky that had never seemed more open, more promising. On his lips was a tiny smile, his first real one in longer than he could remember. Even as tears coursed from his eyes, his heart began to feel the first true flutterings of hope.

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