The Wanderer (Book #2)

Chapter 3

Hey so I am sorry about not updating yesterday, I was thinking about this story and what I should do with it. I came up with something.

I don't think I will have the patience to write a third book on this plot so I'm going to make this book the last of the series but I'm also going to make it 5-10 chapters longer than "The Orphan" was. Does that sound good? :)

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My eyelids were sealed shut by dried blood.

My body ached, my arms, hands, knuckles, neck, chest, every muscle in my body.

Groaning, I reached up and rubbed my eyes hard enough to break the seal of the blood so my eyes could open.

When my eyes did open, I saw what I was in which was the car I had stolen. Except it didn't look like that much anymore.

The radio was sparking, the whole front of the car was bent so far down I couldn't even see it, and the roof of the car was reaching far down probably from when it rolled.

I groaned and tried opening my door but it wouldn't open. Grimacing, I pulled myself to the broken window on my side. Gripping it and ignoring the pain of glass piercing my palms, I pulled myself out the window but I didn't act fast enough to catch myself from hitting the ground. I landed on the ground on my back.

Immediately I felt pain not just an ache but a very violent tingling sensation. My fists clenched and blood seeped out through my fingers. I stood to my feet but staggered for a moment and almost fell again.

I shook my head and then looked around seeing the other car which looked even worse than mine if that was possible. The driver had obviously escaped somehow. I sighed then started walking down the street leaving bloody footprints behind.

God I must look like a literal zombie. Blood, sweat, a limp, and my eyes look tired. Dammit my hands! I winced as I held my hands up to my face and saw multiple different bleeding cuts with shards of glass protruding from them.

I took a deep breath then pulled each shard out. Each one felt like I was slicing my skin again.

After doing so, I threw them away and then I remembered something. Frantically I checked my pockets for my wallet but found...nothing.

I instantly started taking deep anxious breaths. If I had no money, what was I going to do??

And once again, I did something that I will never do again.

I begged.

Taking off my jacket, I sat down on the sidewalk with my jacket spread out in front of me. Cupping my hands in front of me I spoke in the little bit of Russian that I had learned during my time at Alexander's.

"Alms. Alms for the poor." I chanted in a soft moaning voice to hopefully get some pity.

After about three hours I had gathered up at least about five dollars. Staring down at the collection of Russian coins and Russian paper money, I had no idea how I was going to continue to survive without starving.

Sighing, I stood up. My body didn't ache as much anymore but there was still a constant tingling in my back that felt like it was in my muscles.

I stashed the money in my back pocket that had a zipper and zipped it to make sure it wouldn't escape or get lost. Then I pulled my jacket on and threw the grey hoodie over my head. Sadly this one wasn't like my vantablack one. My face was perfectly visible. Gingerly I rubbed my hand over my face and realized I had grown a slight beard and mustache.