They don’t even love me. That’s why they’re never at home. Because they can’t stand to be near me. Always working, and never staying home to see what should actually be with me. I pick up a big yellow piece of rock on the road, and throw it at a taxi speeding past. Oh, my goodness! It just hit the driver in the face.
Time to run.
I jump over the railing on the side of the road and slide down the dusty slope, sprinting down the main dirt road of the slums, then looking back to make sure that I wasn’t being followed. And that was when the huge stone appeared (as if out of midair) onto the road. I tripped over it and went flying onto the gravel. Everything went black.
