I was twelve years old my family was poor and my life was rough. It's not much better now. I got bullied at school and abused at home. My only friend was the night it brought sleep to my parents, that's when I ran. I ran like the wind to get away. Out of this hell hole of a town, I ran for what seemed to be days no food no water but I was used to it. The rain pelted down like bullets, the streets licked my bare feet. Sopping wet that's what I was, an idiot who ran away and is now in the cold drowning in the rain. Shelter, that's what I need. I see a man in the distance I know this is stupid but I ran up to him asking for help. He seemed nice I mean he looked almost happy that I came up to him, but he went back to a straight face after a second. He saw I was hurt and asked if I was okay to walk. I nodded my head. We walked for a while. He didn't talk much; he simply said "three minutes", "two minutes", "one minute", "here". I looked up and saw a beautiful house that looked to be two stories. We walked in and he put away his umbrella. We climbed the stairs and he pointed at a door and simply said "room" then pointed to another door and said "shower" my stomach growled. He seemed to take notice; he sort of looked shocked, almost offended at himself. "Sorry, take a shower then I'll feed you." He walked off back down the stairs I assume to make food. Once I'm out of the shower and in the room, I assume to be mine I find clothes on the bed. I get dried and put them on, they are a little big but they'll do can't blame him it's not like he knew I was coming.
