DISCLAIMER: This will have numerous fighting and maybe gore, but there WILL be soft fluff.
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I'm running.
I'm trying to escape from that horrible scene.
I can't stay there with my mother...my sister...dead at the hands of my alcoholic father.
I keep running through streets. Blindly crying and sprinting.
I run into a man, completely knocking him over.
"Sorry!!" I scream, tears streaming down my face. I try to get up, but my sorrow weighs me down.
I can't get up.
What's the point of doing so anymore?
I just lay on the hard concrete and cry.
"It's alright." The man says. His voice is soft. "Are you okay?"
"No!!" I scream again, choking. Crying. "I have no home!! My dad is horrible!!"
Sobbing, I punch the hard sidewalk. Angry at my dad. Destroyed by my family.
"Do you need help?" The man asks. "I can help you."
Looking up at him, I nod. He looks to be maybe around 50 or so. He looked kind.
He smiled softly and held out his hand to me, and I took it.
Later on, I learned his name. He was Henry Stein, retired artist for Joey Drew studios.
He gave me a home.
He became my new father.
And I loved him as such.
But one day he went away and didn't come back.
So, I was determined to bring him home.