Lost

Friends?

I wake up to the sound of footsteps as people walk past the alley. I grab my dagger and hold it closely. I stare at the engravings
"To my bold, bright and courageous daughter, Bridgette. Love, Dad"
I gently smile while moving my finger across the engraving and stand up wobbling a bit trying to keep my balance. I head out onto the sidewalk.
The air was awfully thick and foggy. Not the morning I suspected but this'll have to do. I wipe the dirt from my pants and shirt.
My sleeves are ripped and my pants have holes where my knees should be. Of course my knees and arms are full of dirty cuts. My knuckles are greenish blue from all the bruises from training. And my right cheek has a large gash from the last guy I tried getting information from. He was definitely not cooperative.
I walk down the narrow sidewalk. This is a worn down town. This town has been around since my father and mother spent their childhood here. I remember hearing hundreds of stories of them sneaking out at night or even just having fun at the park. But mostly of them just being with each other. They really loved each other. You could tell by just a hand gesture or a nip on the cheek. And all I hoped is that love would be like that for me. That I'd someone who'd be there for me, someone who will love me...for me. Lost in my thoughts I stop near a old, abandon building. This is the building where I've trained long, hard hours of just straight up punching. I glance around to see if there is anyone around, and walk in.
The buildings odor was musty but I've gotten used to it. But instead of the large space of nothing but training gear, there was a stranger along with it.
He looked around 17, about a year older than me. He wasn't buff but he wasn't scrawny either. But i wasn't too interested in his physical appearance. I was focused on his techniques. They were so unique. The way he used different combinations and how he moved so smoothly. He stopped when he noticed me. I stood staring at him sternly trying to collect myself.
"Who are you?" He says curiously.
"I am Bridgette. And who might you be?" I say noticing the sword carrier slashed around him.
"Ace." He says glancing at my dagger
I twirl the dagger between my fingers deciding. How do I know to trust him?
I look in his eyes seeking for information. And this time I could see them.
His eyes were emerald green and were stern yet full of curiosity. His wide eyes stared back at my dull, lifeless brown eyes. His mouth twitched into a half smile.
"Friends?" He asked in a persuading voice. I look at his face again. His half smile has turned into a goofy grin.
"Friends" I say smiling slightly.
I think maybe I found someone who could help me find my mother.