Blood Stain Walls

this is a story that I wrote today I was bored and thought of the Title Blood Stain Walls.

Chapter one:

There was a chill in the air, as a teenage boy walked along the streets of LA. His breath was like white fog, he had no where to go, his mom had passed from cancer when he was nine years of age, and his father died of an overdose two years ago. The teenage boy was alone he felt alone. He had no friends and he had to steel to eat, the most important thing that was on his mind was how to survive the up coming winter. But how? He has no job, no money and he is tired of stealing. Maybe prison would be the best thing for me I’ll have a bed and I wont have to live on the streets. He thought walking past a hotdog stand. He heard his stomach growl. The boy hadn’t eaten in three days. He new he had to do something. He can not do this much longer. The man that runs the hotdog stand was fat and had grease all over him from cooking the hotdogs, he took a break and was talking to a young woman about in her twenties. This Is my chance. To get some food. The boy thought, he walked up to the hotdog stand and trying to act as though he was just walking by he stood in front of the cart with interest looking at the sign. There was a hotdog on the cart with mustered and ketchup and there was a line of soda’s in front it as well. Coke, Pepsi, Sprite, water, and Lemonade. As cautious as the boy tried, he walked closer and closer to the cart the fat man was still talking to the young lady, not noticing was is taking place. The boy grabbed the hot dog and two bottles of soda and ran as fast as he possibly could to get as far away from the hotdog stand the woman screamed and the fat man turned and saw him running with the food and drinks in the boys hand.

“STOP THEIF!!!!!! STOP! STOP!” the fat hotdog stand owner yelled trying to chase after the boy. But couldn’t run for long because he was so over weight and was not in shape, when he stopped running the man was out of breath, breathing heavenly, trying to catch his breath he reached his cell phone in his left pocket of his white pants and dialed the police department.

With in seconds flashing lights and sirens were coming from down the street, the police stopped in front of the crime scene, a tall police officer opened the front door of his car

“well, Mr. Frank what is the issue here?” The officer asked with his hands on his belt

“some one stole a hot dog and two drinks!”