Author's Note

Juson: HEY THERE YOU GUYS! I'm proud to say I am part of this AMAZING account. I hope you ALL LOVE our stories!


(P.O.V: First Point of View, Scarlet William)

"HEY YOU! COME BACK HERE AND GIVE ME THE MONEY FOR THAT APPLE- WHY YOU LITTLE- CONSTABLE, CONSTABLE? WHERE IS THE BLASTED MAN WHEN THERE IS AN ACTUAL CRIME?" I heard the grey bearded merchant scream as I made a quick and easy get away. Honestly, why was that old man making such a ruckus over a single apple, it's not like he didn't have another one, in fact, with the jewels and silks that guy owned, I'm surprised that he even noticed!

But I soon started feeling guiltiness eating away at my soul (Or was that the hunger in my stomach) although the guy could've probably buy thousands of apples, I felt guilty for stealing this one. For all I know, those gems and silks could all be bogus, and he was just actually a poor old soul, like me (though the chances are quite small). But if I didn't, then it would go against my number one motto.

If it means living another day, one that could lead to a better life, then suck it up, and do it!

I shook my head, as I sighed in exhaustion. I quickly ran into a dark alley, one in which I knew a decent person wouldn't dare step into. Well, I'm no decent person, that's for sure. I leaned against the grimy, foul wall (which I'm pretty sure hasn't been washed since it was built), sat down on what I think was moldy cushion (Honestly, I'm not sure if I wanted to know what it actually might be), and bit into the red bitter sweetness called an apple. Sadly, as fast as I started eating the apple, it seemed even faster for it to disappear. I suddenly grimaced as I looked down on myself. A dirty, ragged dress came to about my knees, showing my thin, scarred, and frail legs. I closed my eyes as that familiar numbing pain in my stomach started to return. Not enough to put me in agony like it did this morning, having not eaten since I didn't eat for about, give or take, 1-2 weeks, but enough for me to try to get up and move around.
As I began walking down the murky, sickening alley, my mind began to wander as I thought about my life, and why it made me like this, a street rat with no real home.

Well really, I guess I had no life to begin with. No home either, unless you ever counted a rundown orphanage as a home. I didn't, and never will. You see, my family, as in my would-have-been-mother and would-have-been-father, died in a fire when I was about a year old. The fire destroyed everything, leaving me nothing but would-have-been-memories. Not even a trinket was left for me to have an idea what they lived like before the devastating fire, everything left to my imagination. It was a cruel imagination too, one that would torture me with my would-have-been-life, and how things would be so different for me today. It would lead me to think of stuff like, how big our home would be, did we have any servants? Would I wear fine dresses that I see other girls wear at my age? Oh, but most of all, my parents. Did my parents both of Auburn hair that I inherited? (Though you can hardly tell, with all the grim and dirt in it) Did my mother have such grace and beauty, that it would rival ones of royalty? Did my father have woman following him everywhere he went? Would my family love me every day and every night?

Oh what am I doing….I-I'm side tracking again, aren't I...L-let me get my thoughts back together…now where was I? Oh yes, of course what happened to me after the fire.

Well, after the fire, someone, probably a maid or servant, dropped me off at the door step of an orphanage, and a really messed up one at that. The head of the orphanage house was one cranky lady, though now when I look back, who can blame her? Having a bunch of 5 year olds running around takes a toll on people. I lived there for four years, up until I was about to turn 5. They kicked me and another girl out, saying that we were old enough to take care of ourselves. The other girls name was Brooke Hall, and she was the closest thing I can call to an older sister (She was 11 years old, while I was about to turn 5). We were really close, and helped each other when we stole food and other charms. But all fun comes to an end right?

About two years after we were kicked out, Brooke was caught by the constable, and she told me to run as fast as my scrawny legs can. I've never seen her since then.

Now it brings us back to the present time, with me walking down a dark, smelly alley, trying my best to survive on my own.

I guess that life is not so bad I mean-

"THERE SHE IS CONSTABLE, THE GIRL THAT STOLE TWELVE APPLES FROM ME!" I turned around and saw a large man running after me.

Crud, how am I going to get out of this one? Wait, twelve apples? THAT LITTLE-

TO BE CONTINUED!


Author's Note

Juson: WELL THANKS FOR READING! BE SURE TO REVIEW!
Scarlet: Yeah , um, yup *eating apple* do what she says..yup. Reviews.