Third Person
"Mitchell Grassi. You better come back here!" Mr. Korey, his Mitch's sixth grade English, yelled.
Mitch continued to ignore him and strolled down the sixth grade hallway. The teacher kept yelling but gave up and ran towards the brunette.
He grabbed his arm and forcefully pulled it to make Mitch face him.
"Listen to me, ok. I know you don't have parents and you live with your uncle, but don't you think your parents will like you to do better in school?" Mr. Korey explained, not thinking about what he just said.
"Why would I care what they think? They left me. I was a mistake. They never loved me. Heck, I don't even know them. I don't care about what they do, say, or think about. I don't care about them. I don't care about school. I don't care about life!" Mitch screamed.
Mr. Korey was just about to say something when the bell rang. Mitch ran down the stairs and he headed towards the door. He was just about to leave when someone grabbed his shirt and pulled him back.
"Hey Mitchie. Why you running out? Did your mommy and daddy finally take you back?" Gabe, the school bully, spat in Mitch's fragile face.
Mitch started to tear up and Gabe and his buddies laughed at him. They then grabbed him and dragged him to the nearest bathroom. They immediately pushed his head down the toilet and flushed it. Only they could hear Mitch's muffled screams.
They let him go and Mitch ran out of the bathroom and school. He went the opposite direction from home, leaving everything behind. His uncle, his friend, his school, his life.
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Mitch's POV
Three Years Later
I've been living on the streets since that horrid day in sixth grade. I'm fifteen and I have a job. But it's not what you expect. I'm a janitor in McDonalds.
Haven't been to school in three years. Left everything I had. I guess I thought I would have a better life but you know, I was twelve. Didn't know what it would be like in the real world. Never thought it would be this hard. I guess that's my life, right? I should've known life would be hard on me. It had my parents leave me and let me get stuck with an alcoholic uncle.
"Hey, uhh.... Michael. Get over here." My boss yelled out.
I swear. That guy is a major idiot. Sure I haven't been in school in awhile, but I'm sure smarter then him. He can't even remember a name I wrote down for him five seconds ago. I practically had to write my name on his hand.
"Look, I'm sorry. You've been great here, but the kids are getting pretty sad and I don't want that. I know it's because of you. So, you're fired. Get out."
I threw the mop I was holding at him and stormed out of there. At least I don't have to worry about getting up early. Never got paid anyway.
I ran to my home which is basically an alley with boxes and a messed up mattress. I changed into my old clothes and jumped on the mattress. I lied down and tried to sleep but couldn't. The noise of screaming and footsteps kept me awake. I decided to look at the chaos that was happening.
I walked out of my alley and saw what the city has never experienced before.
Terrorists.
I wanted to run away but my body wouldn't let me. It was actually running towards them. I tried to stop myself but I refused. It's confusing, I know. Just bare with me.
Once I was I front of them, I nearly died just by looking at them. Fear over took me and I stood still. They turned around and raised their guns at me.
"Awe. The city finally has a hero! That's amazing. But I don't think this hero will last very long." One of them said in a taunting voice.
They grabbed me and shoved me in a van. Then I awoke.
