AUTHOR NOTE: This is just the begining of my story. I'll upload new parts every chance I get. I'm busy this summer though, so it might take a little while. This is Part 1, and you may recognise the begining from a story on my old account. It was *almost* the same as another, i thought itd b k, but it wasnt so ANYWAYSSSSS...Enjoy the story!

My names Raven. I'm 16, and I'm alone. Totally alone. I'm homeless living in a big city. What I don't have, I steal. Not a big deal, right? Wrong. I'm constantly running -From the police, from my family, from the general public. If you're reading this, I'm probably arrested, back "home," or some where else. Otherwise, I wouldn't have left this out. This is my small, little autobiography of sorts. I can't write anything too important. They're always looking for me, always searching.

I walked down the quiet street. At least now there's not as many people, I thought to myself. I spotted it, my bridge. I quickly ran under it, and set my backpack down. I lit a match, and set a few leaves alight, to make a small fire. Out of my backpack I pulled a small can of cold soup. Suddenly, I felt as if I was being watched. I gently played with my dirty hair. It was usually a white blond/silver, with a lavender tint. And it was all natural. But now, it was so dirty it looked dark blonde, almost brown. I hadn't bathed in weeks. I held the soup over the fire with my gloved hands. The gloves didn't have fingers, so they got a little hot, but I didn't mind. I sat, entranced by the fire. It danced and swirled orange, yellow, some times red or blue. Like a deadly spell, fire was entrancing, yet had the power to kill. I heard a snap behind me. I whipped around, searching my surroundings. I quickly threw a top on the soup, and dropped it in my black backpack. I hurridly stomped out the fire, smothering the flames with my combat boot. I jumped up and ran. My combat boots were heavy, not meant for long distance running at top speed. I couldn't take them off, though, or my feet would be cut up by the rocks and sticks on the ground. Once I got to the park, I slowed. No one would follow me here. I walked to a tree, and sat below it. It was a willow tree, I randomly noticed. As I lay against it, I pulled the soup out again. I grabbed a spoon out of one of the many pockets on my backpack, and began to eat the now cold soup. It would have been better warm, but I couldn't risk lighting another fire and attracting attention. Once I was done with the soup, I lay beneath the stars, and closed my eyes. For a brief moment, I wished that someone would be laying next to me, holding my hand and whispering in my ear. But then it was gone. I couldn't afford to have thoughts like that. I was alone here, and all that mattered was surviving. I drifted off to sleep, to the world of my dreams. When I woke, the sun was just rising. It must be around six, I thought to myself. I ate another can of cold soup, and stood up. I wandered the park for a few hours, till around eight. Children were running around, playing in the dew that rested on the grass. The sun was barely out, but already people were coming, and jogging. I even saw a few couples making out on park benches. I felt a brief twinge of jealousy for all the people, with their perfect families, and not a care in the world. They don't know what it's like to be hungry, to fight for your life, and to fight for survival, I thought bitterly. Their lucky, they're just too dense to see it. I went back to the bridge, and found a jacket. It was nice, leather too. Who set it here? The person I saw last night? I looked around, wary of whoever was here. I put the jacket on, and smelled it. Wow, did it smell amazing. Someone's cologne was on it, which meant they had been wearing it earlier. Strange, I thought. I wandered out of the park and onto the streets. I snuck into a fruit vendor, and stole a banana and a few oranges. I didn't want to get sick. I couldn't. It would mean seeing a doctor, and you can't do that when your homeless. Now it was around noon, according to the large clock in the center of the square. Now's my time, I thought nervously. I took a glass bowl, intricately decorated with roses, and set it down on the cement. I took my small radio and put on a song. I began to dance, one of the few things I still did from my past life. I jumped into leaps, pirouettes, and splits. Everyone applauded. A handful of them set money in the bowl. As the song ended, the people dispersed,