Hi, im Basil. I'm a 13 year old kid who has a nice rich family and lives in a huge cozy house... just kidding, not really. I am homeless and live under a bridge... just kidding again. I live in an old abandoned shed at the edge of a small city known as Trampled. great name I know, who wants to live in a trampled city? haha see what I did there trampled.... um yeah so anyways, I luckily live right behind a rich guy. i used to live in the streets with nothing but a helpful 40 year old friend (also homeless) and a pathetic cardboard sign. I was sick of living that way and traveled a lot. i found this guy thankfully, and he gave me his backyard shed unofficially. he gives me food and a nice old mattress he was giving away. He fixed up the shed some and now it doesn't leak. hes very nice. at least that is my experience compared to all the other people i have met.
i bet your wondering something. "why doesn't he just let you live in his house?" thanks for asking. well simple answer. i dont want to. now your all probably like "what?!?!?!?!" yeah i know. its a big surprise, but you know what? i am not here permanently, or so i tell myself every day. i just have no place better to go. So why am i homeless? well i ran away when i was 9. Now hold your thoughts! it was a black night and heavy rain was pounding down on the roof to my room. i was trying to sleep but the sound and a deep forbidding feeling kept me awake. a feeling of dread. while i lay there, my baby sister started crying i rolled my eyes. now how can i sleep. than suddenly ... nothing. shivers ran down my back. i started to get out of my bed as quiet as i could, than started sneaking toward the door. outside my room the floorboards creaked and i saw a shadow under he door. i froze pressed to the wall beside the door. footsteps walked away. stayed tense, ready to leap at any given second. for a few minutes there was silence. but that was shattered by the chilling scream of my mom. "Run Basil!" my dad yelled. 2 gunshots rang out. my eyes welled with tears, but i didn't cry out, for fear it would alert the murderer of my position. instead i ran. i slid open the window, grabbed my pocket knife and flashlight, and jumped out the window. my dad had always stressed the importance of a runaway strategy, and i never expected to need it. i hit the ground knees bent and started running immediately. i ran as fast as possible. following beside the road in the heavy road. we didn't live in a city but we were close to one, and that's where i ran. 15 minutes later i arrive and come to the police station. i told them my story... but they didn't believe me. this place was believed to be the most peaceful place on earth. well they threw me back out, so i had to live on the streets always afraid to return to the house. but always looking for the killer and needing revenge. I always wondered why that man had come to my house that night to kill me and my family. but that's besides the point.
why am I writing this for you may you ask? a homeless person just randomly writing a book on his life? no, its what happens next...
