I don't know why, but I woke up early today, so I walk to the living room. I sat on the old chair we got from my grandfather. I looked at the coffee table, my mom wrote "Rose, dont forgot your dad and I are going on our business trip for a week. No parties, boys, or gangs over. Ps I trust you enough to not call a babysitter. Remember to get the mail, and the money for the bills and food are on my top shelf."
I walk outside; there was a strange lump in the snow, there was red around it, I walked slowly over to it. It was a kid not much younger than me. I grabbed a stick and poked him he squeaked and turned over. He looked like a lost puppy that has been kicked too many times. He had a cut across his cheek so deep you could see his teeth.
I helped him up and took him in my house. I put him on the chair and ran to find the first aid kit, and my sewing kit, then I ran back. I disinfected the cut on his cheek and started to sew his cheek, it made me sick to my stomach.
After I was done, I said "I'm going to call the hospital ok."
He managed to say "n-no Th-they'll find m-e."
He passed out cold, I made sure he was as comfortable as I could make him on the couch.
'He's probably going to be hungry when he wakes up' I thought to my self
