Prologue

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She was scavenging through the dirty streets, looking for anything to help her survive. A broken knife, a piece of something eatable – anything.

She was desperate enough to venture into a territory that she knew she didn't belong to. A territory that was ruled over by older kids, by kids who had no mercy. They had been on the streets for far longer than her.

She knew it was dangerous, but she was willing to risk her life for the slightest chance at survival in that reached place. She knew that no one's going to help her, so she dragged her dirty feet along the street. She kept her eyes on the ground, back hutched, to not draw any attention to herself.

She went back to her home a few times only to find nothing there. Nothing beside the broken things and her father's rotting corpse. Every time she went back, she was hoping that maybe it was all a bad dream and her mother was home, making food and after that read to her from the only book they owned.

It never happened. It was all real. She had killed her father, and her mother was nowhere to be found.

She heard a crash. Something dropping. Her breath instantly caught, but she kept moving, ignoring the thread in her body.

"Hey, you!" A voice shouted. She ignored it and kept moving, speeding up her pace the slightest bit.

"Girl!" the voice yelled again. She broke out in a run then. She knew it was a bad idea to go to that part of the city, but desperation led her there. She ran as fast as she could, but it wasn't enough as the caller caught up to her and grabbed her by her hair.

The girl yelled out in pain, grasping for the wrist of the person holding her. She was trying to get free in any way possible, scratching at the person holding her, yanking herself back and forth, not caring if she lost all her hair then and there.

Suddenly the grip was gone and she fell on her backside. A thump sounded from behind her and a yell. She turned to see the person – large looking boy – on the ground with another on top of him, beating him. She couldn't bring herself to move. She just watched. Watched as the scene unfolded.

"Boy!" An older male voice sounded from somewhere, "What'd I tell you?" She turned around to see a man with a long black coat and a black hat behind her. She flinched out of the man's way as he stepped closer to the boy.

The boy raised his head before looking back down, his black hair falling back around his face.

"Go for the throat."

"And you didn't do that, 'cause?" The man asked. The boy didn't answer. He just stood and walked over to the girl and held out his hand to her.

"Boy. Answer me when I talk to you," the man demanded. He didn't sound all that mad, just annoyed.

"I didn't want to scare her to death," the boy snapped at the man, looking toward him. That shut the man right up, and silence fell. The boy kept holding his hand out to her.

"You gonna accept it or not?" the boy asked her. She immediately took his hand and let him pull her up. The boy dusted his hand on his shirt and took a step away.

"Thank you," the girl managed to utter. The boy clicked his tongue and muttered something before reaching into his pant pocket. He pulled out a knife, a rusty, shabby thing, but still a knife.

For a moment, the girl thought he might kill her right there, but instead, the boy flipped the knife over in his hand and offered it to her by the hilt.

"Take it. You seem to need it more than I do," the boy said. She looked the boy up and down. He looked older than her. Though for someone who's supposedly older than her, he did seem scrawny. Who was she kidding? All the kids there here looked skinny and scrawny.

"But, I don't know how to use it," the girl whispered. Man behind the boy sighed loudly before grabbing the knife from the boy's hand and crouching down.

The girl watched silently, trusting that the man wasn't going to hurt her as the boy didn't move from his spot.

The man looked at her; "The only move you need to know to protect yourself is this." He thrusts the knife forward and twists, "Hold your hand steady and don't let go of the knife no matter what happens. All the other stuff is for killing. This one injures but doesn't kill. Gives you enough time to get away."

The girl stayed silent. Watching, learning from the man who obviously knew what he was talking about.

"Got it?" the man asked then. The girl nodded quickly and then accepted the knife when the man offered it to her again. He then stood and started heading off; "Come on, boy. Good did of the day is done," he said. Without a word, the boy started following the man down the street.

Only when they were gone did she think about asking their names. The people who helped her in that horrible, cruel place. Moreover, she wanted them to know her name. She wanted them to know who they saved.

With that thought in her brain and the newly acquired knife skill, she continued on her way, hoping to pump into them again sometime. 

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Word count: 935

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