I was 15 when I was arrested. I was deemed enough of a threat to not even get a trial. Now I live on the Traveling Island of Convicts, or what we call it, Harlem Isle. It's a free for all. Basic market economy is set up, but without the partnership of a coinciding government. That's right, you heard me. No government. No laws. We don't even have to right to currency. The only right we have is to trade and survive, given our best equipment and weapons upon arriving here. You can't trust anyone. I've been here for two years. I'm far from a novice on living here. What I was convicted for? I won't ever tell. I'll never do it again. Cause the next time I do, the consequences are far worse than the light grey of Harlem. They're black.
Hey my name is YN. I'm 15 and I'm stuck struggling. I live in this abandoned house all alone with a little bit of clothes and no food. I don't steal cuz to be honest, I ain't bout that life. One day my parents left and said they'll be back. It's been 9 months and I still never heard from them again, but they did leave me with a phone so I guess im sort of safe. I didn't want foster care so I hid.I don't know how long I'm going to keep living but, I sure do hope my life gets better.