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I quickened my pace as I walked down the empty dark streets. The only source of light coming from the lamp posts that stood tall beside me.

My nose was starting to hurt from the harsh cold air and my hands were freezing inside my pockets. I tried my best to get home safely but I knew these streets too well.

I have scars and brusies on my body to prove how dangerous it was to walk alone at night.

As I crossed through two tall buildings, I felt as though something or somebody was watching me. Lately, it's been happening to me way too often.

I look up and see nothing but the bright stars and full moon staring back at me. I let out a heavy sigh and watch my breath diseapper into the air.

A crashing noise sounds through the alley way and makes me stop in my tracks. My ripped up shoes start to feel the cold air slowly start to slip inside my toes as I look for the cause of the noise.

When I see nothing odd I continue to walk and just assume it's a stray cat looking for food in a trash can.

Kind of like how I was not too long ago.

I guess we're both trying to feed our grumbling stomachs that never seem to quite down.

I finally reach the familiar abandoned building and quickly make my way inside it. I climb the stairs all the way to the top and enter what I consider my 'room'.

It's spacious and in the corner is a matress I luckily found in a thrift store. Anything that will keep me from sleeping on the dirty floor is enough for me. The room overall is cold but it's better than the cold air from outside.

I make my way to the window and open the ripped up curtains to let some light from the moon shine through. I find a candle and light it up beside my bed.

I take off my dirty shoes then climb into my small bed for some much needed sleep. My stomach growls again from the lack of food and I realize I was only able to get a piece of stale bread from a bakery not too far away from here.

I sigh knowing this is how it has been since I ran away from the so called 'orphanage' I was left in as a baby.

Now that I'm sixteen I thought I was able to live off on my own and not have to deal with the evil faces that lurked the orphanage.

I still have clear memories of the abusive care givers and the cruel children who would always made fun of me because of my white hair.

It wasn't my fault I was born this way. If I knew who my parents were I would complain to them and ask them why my hair was so damn white but I don't know who they are...soo that's not possible.

With a small frown I adjust myself on my bed and wrap the thin blanket around me the best I can. My frown fades once I start to feel the warmth radiating off the blanket into my cold skin.

Sleep quickly takes over my restless body and takes me to a dream land much better than reality..