Survival

It's cold, dark and wet. but its normal here. always wet, always cold, always horrible. my names Alex Jorja Finnly. I'm seventeen years old and I have no home and no family or friends. So yes, I am homeless. Well, I do have one thing. This thing is actually quite spectacular. Its my talking cat, Frill. Now I know you would think I'm crazy about a talking cat, but he does! I don't now how, but I can communicate with him. bizarre I know.

right now I'm looking through someone's dumpster looking for food to eat. I do this for a living, and I know this is gross, but at least I'm fed. Sometimes when I'm lucky I find clothes! but, getting caught by the owner isn't scary, getting caught by the goblins is. Goblins come out at night and take away people that are out after ten o'clock pm to the queens jail cells, where they either starve them to death, or torture them.

"BONUS!" "Frill! Guess what I found? CHOCOLATE!!" I shout not remembering that there are goblins around. " hmm give me some!!" Exclaims Frill. I break a big chunk of for him and put it on the ground for him. He viciously starts licking at it. God when's the last time I fed him? I'm about to take a bite out of my own piece when I hear someone coming.