A World Found--Book 1

Chapter 1

Freya stepped nervously through the front door of the run-down store and pulled her hood off, a little bell chimed above her. "Welcome to Q-shop, what can I do for you?" a pimply faced teen sat behind the counter slurping his icy.

 Freya looked the guy up and down. "I'm here for the job, you know—the job." She pulled a crumpled piece of paper out of her back pocket and shoved it into the kids face. 'Slurp.' He pursed his lips and eyed Freya. "Job? That's dated two years ago, you dumb or something?" Freya stared opened mouthed at the kid.

 Two years? There was no way! How had she missed that? Freya grumbling threw the paper into a trash can and stormed out of the shop, the pimply kid laughing behind her. Freya pulled up her hood over her head as a strong gust of wind blasted its way down the empty street.

 Spring was almost here, it had to be. When Freya couldn't find someone to take her in, she'd sleep in the ally's or under an old tarp she had saved a year back. Life was hard for a sixteen-year-old girl living on the streets, but it was better than the Childrens home.

 Freya stepped off the curb and crossed the street mumbling, "stupid pimples." She kicked a stone and sent it flying down the empty road, past a few old shops and a library. Freya looked down at her broken watch, half past four. Should be getting back. She thought. 

It took Freya nearly a half hour to get back to the bustling city. Cars honked at her as she jaywalked through them, mothers pulled their children closer to them as Freya walked by. Freya pulled her coat collar closer to her face.

 She wore her coat over her old sweater, because of the cold, you could still see your breath when you breathed. Her ripped jeans and too big of a shirt gave the impression that she was homeless, but what made mothers pull their children away was the ugly scars that ran from one ear toward the mouth then back toward the other ear. 

Freya stared at the ground as she pushed her way through New Yorks crowd. Another day, no job, hungry. 

Freya couldn't get even a dime begging, her scar scared people away. A man bumped into her sending her crashing to the ground, sprawled out on the ground she slapped the pavement angerly as people walked around her. 

She flung her leg out, her foot hooked around the man's ankle and with a cry he tumbled to his hands and Kness. Freya jumped up and ran off into the crowd before he could even turn around to see who had done it.

Freya shivered and pulled the third blanket over her; the wind made its way through the thin cardboard and tarp shelter she had made. Footsteps. Freya froze, this ally was so well hidden! Had the cops found her? Was it some drunk who happened to stumble here? 

No, it couldn't be, you had to hop over an old fence to even get here. Why hadn't she anticipated this? Freya reached for the old rusty wrench she had laying by her head, she kept it there to chase off the dogs that tried to steal her food, and even sometimes the brats that did as well. 

Freya gripped it tightly in her hand and sat up, the cardboard wall blocked her to the alleys entrance, and she peaked around. No one. She had heard footsteps, right? Maybe the wind. 

She blew at a piece of black hair that fell into her eyes and shivered. Fraya lay back down and tried to slow her speeding heart; the sound of footsteps had scared her. She closed her eyes, as the wind screamed through her alley, making the edge of the tarp she hadn't tied down flutter crazily about.

 Fraya's eyes flashed open as she felt herself being dragged by the feet out of her little cardboard makeshift. She grabbed for the wrench and felt its rusty handle, but too late, she was out in the open. Freya leapt to her feet turning a full circle, trying to let her eyes adjust to the pitch darkness, blinking and squinting. Freya felt someone grab her arm and twist it painfully behind her back. 

Even though she couldn't see her attacker she managed to kick their leg out from under them. She ran for the fence at the end of the ally shouting for help. She felt the blood pumping hard in her ears, this wasn't a cop, a cop wouldn't sneak up on her in the dark. 

This might be worse. Before she could reach the old gate, she was thrown to the side by the unseen attacker. Her face was pushed against the wall, her arm pinned to her back. She strangled to use her legs to gain freedom, but someone's knee was pushed hard against her back legs. 

Freya wished the moon was out tonight, on moonlit nights she was always up, looking for jobs and picking rich people pockets. Moonlit nights gave her a warm feeling, like nothing could stop her, but in the dark she felt alone and useless. "Tom? That you? Huh? I was joking when I stole those apples, I'll pay you back I swear!" Freya cried out hopefully. Someone's hand grabbed her head and pushed it to the side. Freya cried out again. 

There were two pairs of hands. One hand holding her arms the other her head to the wall, and then another pushing her head to the side, how many attackers? And what did they want? "Kyle, Peter? Is this about the wallet? I swear it wasn't me—Augh!" Something sharp pierced the skin on her neck. She struggled around trying to break free of the grasp. 

How was she unable to fight back? She suddenly felt very tired, why couldn't she just go back to bed? Why was this happening now? She blinked slowly and stopped struggling, what was this funny feeling on her fingers? Her head felt a little funny, kind of fuzzy, she blinked again. 

She felt her attackers let her go and she slid down the wall. Why couldn't she stand up? Her legs wouldn't move when she told them to. She struggled to keep her head up. She felt herself being tossed over someone's shoulder. Maybe I could sleep for just a minute, it's been a long day. She thought as she let her eye lids slide closed.