I sat on the rough wood platform next to the tracks at the train station. The sun was sinking lower into the sky, staining the clouds red, and I had only sold two wooden trains that day. I sighed and looked down at the four dollars I held in my hand. Four dollars for an entire days work. I swore, and heard the word gleefully repeated to my left. Uh oh. A mother and her little girl were standing not five feet away from me. The girl was wearing a shirt that said Daddy's little princess and one of the biggest grins I had ever seen in my life. She said it again and grinned even bigger. I looked up higher to see the expression on Daddy's little princess's mom's face. If looks could kill, I'd be dead a thousand times over. I started to scoot away and spoke the words that I've spoken more than any others in my life. "Sorry, ma'am." Apparently she was one of those 'sorry doesn't fix anything' people. She also seemed to be one of those 'but a heavy handbag across the face does' people. The taste of blood filled my mouth. I figured that I had bit my tongue. Blood dribbled from my nose down my chin and onto my shirt, which was already dirty, stained, and full of rips. The woman fixed me with a glare that screamed nasty insults. I wiped my nose, but blood continued to run out of it. "Go home and take a bath, dirt boy." she spat at me. "What's home? Can I have one?" I picked up my tattered black backpack and slung it loosely over my shoulder.
After I had bought my dinner, I brought it home. What I now call home is a cardboard box under a bridge. All I have in it is a threadbare blanket. I think I should have brought more when I ran away from home. I laid out my belongings from my bag. I’ve got some wood trains that I carved. This is what I sell at the train station. I have the rusted knife that I carved them with. And I have my dinner, which commands my full attention right now. My dinner is a peach and some crackers. When I finished, I left my box and wandered around. When I’m bored, I like to dig through the trash and find a newspaper. Digging through trash, or even recycling, attracts lots of dirty glares, but I don’t care. Reading the paper is worth it. I finally found a newspaper, so I took it to the park under the tree. It doesn’t matter to me anymore that people move off of benches away from me. I found myself unable to concentrate, though. My thoughts wandered off to thoughts of home. I was right to run away. This life isn’t so bad, and it’s much better than the one I had before. My parents hated me. They told me so themselves. For my entire life, I slept on worse than cardboard with a thin blanket. I barely got anything to eat, so I started stealing and carving wooden trains so I wouldn’t starve. I used the kitchen knives to cut my tangled hair. The list goes on and on. So I ran away, and now living on the streets is luxury compared to my old life. Still, I dream of a life where someone cares about me and where I have a home. In other words, I need money. While I sit there and think, an advertisement in the newspaper catches my eye. I picked it up and read out loud to myself: “Send your kids to participate in the biggest, best, most exciting obstacle course of all time! Twenty-five deadly tests of strength, endurance, agility, and intelligence in groups and alone will challenge your child to do their best to get out of the course alive! Limited slots are available, so apply now by calling 760-3882!” Deadly tests. This was interesting. I read the fine print below. “Only children 5-17 may apply. Prize for getting out alive is $10,000. Entry fee is $1,000.” I tore off the advertisement and stuffed it in my pocket. Here was my chance to get off the street and have a real life! I punched the air triumphantly and then my arm dropped to my side. Entry fee is $1,000. I felt like crying. I couldn’t even imagine having that much money. Of course I could steal it, but from who? Tears were coming dripping down my face when the answer came into my mind. My parents. Not ask for money from them, but steal it. I would do it tonight. The sun was almost down, so I started toward what I used to call my home. I arrived at my parents’ house at about 8:30. Having lived with my parents for fifteen years until I ran away five months ago I knew that they were likely out partying. I was able to just walk in, as they had left the door unlocked. As soon as I closed the door, I realized I didn’t know where they kept their money. This plan might not work after all. I had a donut and thought about it. It was a jelly donut. That’s my favorite type. It was even a strawberry jelly donut. While I licked my fingers, an idea crossed my mind. I may not know where my parents kept their money, but I know where my mom kept her jewelry. I ran into the bathroom and opened the drawer. Here was more than $1,000 of gold and gems. My mother bought a lot of expensive things. I selected a ruby necklace, bracelet, and earring set, as well as two thick gold rings. “Perfect,” I muttered. I slipped the valuables into my pack and left the house with another jelly donut in my hand. “I’ll give you $950 for this,” the guy at Chester’s Pawn Shop said. “One thousand. Please?” I begged him. He eyed my suspiciously. “What for?” I pulled out the ad. He whistled. “You got spine, kid.”