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2 weeks.
2 weeks living on the streets because of the hell i lived in. I didn't deserve to be in an orphanage. I didn't want to be in an orphanage. I couldn't stop the car wreck that killed my family so I ended up there by fault. I ran away to protect myself from the dangerous people that lived with me.
My roommate literally reminded me of Jeff the Killer, she always claimed she was going to kill someone one day. Then, our house mother was always getting furious with the littlest things. That lead to, most of the time, beating us everyday. I was extremely done with all of it, i wanted to leave and so i did.
Now I'm here, on the streets. Haven't eaten in 6 days, because i was lucky enough to have found scraps the last time.
"Are you okay?" An old lady with an accent questioned.
"Yes mam. Just came for a walk, thank you." I continued to glance at the sun from a park bench. She walked away glad I wasn't being abused or something bad.
"Please just help me. I need you right now."
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