My name is Levi Gomez. I'm thirteen. Both of my parents died five months ago in a fire. The cause of the fire was unknown. After the accident I was sent to live in a foster home. There was not one family member who would take me in.
I stayed in the foster home for two weeks before I decided to run away. There were eight boys living in that house, including me. It was very uncomfortable. They had too many rules, plus curfew. I hated the place just as soon as I saw it. I got into a couple of fights while I was there, too. I didn't get into fights much before my parents died but things have changed a lot since then. I don't need foster care; I can take care of myself. So I ran away.
I packed the things that were important to me and took off. I ran about two miles up the road and sat there. I sat right in the middle of the road. I felt like I was out there forever waiting for passersby. Suddenly a woman pulls over beside me. She told me to hop in, and I did.
What are you doing out here in the middle of the road? She had a husky voice. A voice more mature than she looked. She was a dark skin woman whom I thought to be in her late twenties. But you never know. I'm out searching for work- I answered. You don't look a day over twelve and you're already looking for work? Yes, I am. I have a sick brother to look after. I felt my facial expression change and assumed she noticed as well because she stopped asking questions. We drove silently for close to fifteen minutes before I asked her to let me out. I guess she felt sorry for me because she gave me twenty dollars. I thanked her for the ride and the cash and began my walk up the road.
I was headed to my parent's vacation house. I had been dropped off only three miles away but I still dreaded the walk. My parents wanted a private vacation house, so it was in a sort of secluded area. At least a mile into the woods. The last time anyone's been here was the year before the fire, and now I was going to grow up here...
