The Outsider (Original Version)

Chapter 1- Thief

*note- new version is up, and changes have been made. I suggest reading the new version instead*

"Get out of here! You thief!" The store owner shouts after me as I bolt down the street, my arms filled with cans.

My black knee high boots are silent as I run down alleys and back streets.

Oh well. I didn't like this place anyway.

My horse is up ahead, hidden in an alley way that leads out into the main street.

Not long ago the world decided that the use of cars and almost all the other types of transportation that need fuel wasn't helping us, and we moved to horses.

But not just any horses.

They altered them so they would be able to run as fast as a car, normally.

My horse I found as a foal outside a lab.

I was young when I found him, and he followed me 'home'.

The black horse sees me and my armfuls of cans, and whinnies with joy.

"Hey Spirit. That guy was really mad." I gasp, breathing in the cool, fall air.

My lungs feel as if a rock is pressed onto them, but I try to ignore it.

The saddle bag is already open and I dump all the cans into the bag, untieing his reigns and jumping onto his saddle.

My medium green zip up shirt blows in the wind as he speeds down the alley at the sound of the police.

My white tank top is slightly worn out, and I realize I'll need another one.

Luckily for me, the street vendor in front of me has tons right now.

Spirit slows down to a normal pace and I grab two of them, and we continue going.

He whinnies, making me laugh.

I look back and put the shirts into my bag, looking back in time to duck from hitting a sign.

"Whoa!" I shout, looking back at the sign I just barely missed.

The clopping of hooves make my heart beat fast, almost trying to match the speed, and I feel the wind in my golden hair.

"Close the gates!" One if the police officers shouts up to the gaurds.

The gate is right in front if me, but I won't make it in time.

"Get ready." I mumble to Spirit.

The gate is designed so that when its down, the only way to get in or out is to crawl.

Trust me. Its not a good idea.

I start to stand up on his saddle, and just as we reach the gate, I jump, going through the hole above, just missing the spike, but feeling it graze my right arm.

I pass through it and I almost see it all in slow motion.

My feet swing from the air to below me, and I land perfectly on the saddle.

"Woo hoo!" I shout, looking back to see them staring after me angrily.

OK. This might seem bad, but its not my fault I'm on the streets!

I've been on the streets since I was ten, and when I was twelve I started traveling to different towns, hoping to find a nice enough place to live.