It was midnight.

Everyone in the gang was asleep. I had planned this perfectly. Quick as a flash, I stood up from my mat without disturbing the others. I flinched as I expected something to creak, something to ruin my plan.

Nothing happened.

I tugged up my pants, the rips and tears sending cold wind against my skin. I quickly tugged on my shirt. It too had been ripped, on purpose, at the sleeves, cutting them off just above my shoulder. I quickly looked behind me, my fear bubbling up in my chest.

Nothing.

I slunk out of the tent, not daring too breathe unless it gave me away. Then I started running.

My feet pounded against the forest floor, leaping over roots and clumps of grass in the darkness. I had finally gotten away. I had finally run away from the gang.

It was over.

I kept on running.

I remembered hearing about a town near the forest. Scratch had lead a few raids on it. He always gloated about it in his stories, saying he robbed the rich and fed the poor and all that jazz. We all knew he kept the riches to himself, whatever he said. I saw lights up ahead in the distance and I kept on running forward. Maybe someone would help me? Someone could protect me, give me a family and food and clothes and a home... I shook my head to clear it. What was I thinking? It's not like I would find Hope in the village.

I kept on running.

I raced into the village. Grass turned into cobblestone under my feet, but I only ran harder. I needed to get away.  I needed to run.

I skidded around an alley, my shoes sliding on the slick surface.

What did I hope to find there? My mom? My dad? Swift? I gritted my teeth and kept on running.

I slipped.

My face hit the cobblestone and skidded across. Blood welled up on the side of my face, and I gritted my teeth against the pain. My arms fumbled as I skidded to halt. I could feel skin tearing on my exposed arm and cheek. I skidded to a halt in the middle of the cobblestone road.

"Owch..." I muttered

I stood up and rubbed my head. My vision blurred as I stared down the street. I blinked and let out a groan as my vision came into focus. Laying at the end of the street was a girl.

She had a somewhat dirty black dress that was wrinkled slightly, her left eye was covered with an eye patch, and her hair was a dull green. She looked horribly sick and thin, like a dying baby.

Dying babies are really, really depressing looking.

I crept forward and picked up a few leaves from the sidewalk. I crumpled them into a ball and launched it at the girl. Hey, if she was dead I could rob her. If she was alive... I could run.

She didn't do anything.

I crept forward and poked her. She was breathing, short ragged breaths.

Darn.

I hate it when dead people aren't dead. Then you feel bad when you steal things from them.

I crouched beside her and looked into her face. She seemed very sick, poor, and filthy. But she was all I had.

I grabbed her by her shoulders and dragged her under a cardboard box being held up by a rotting fencepost and a small bush. I ripped a strip of cloth from my shirt and dipped it in a small puddle pooling by the gutter. I wrung it out until it was a cold, damp cloth, then I laid it on the girl's forehead. She didn't react.

I sat down beside her, talking quietly out loud about anything and everything all through the night.