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...iour.

She couldn't have been older than 13. Wearing rags that barely covered her blossoming womanhood and with fiery, dark red hair she looked disturbingly apt. They was a sense about her, as if she belonged here, as much as any child could belong in a place like this.

"Thankyou." I spluttered, wincing as she pulled me up by my bleeding arm.

She looked at me then, stared into my eyes, her head cocked slightly like a curious bird and then she was gone, running away as fast as her bare feet would carry her.

"Wait! Who are you! Where am I? Please help!" I cried, but she didn't look back as she sped behind another mound of garbage and was gone.

Cradling my arm, I decided to follow her. Perhaps I would find her again or maybe she would at least lead me to somewhere I could get help. After all, she seemed to have survived here so far. I walked towards where I had seen her go - the rumbling of the approaching dumpster barely registered in my mind at all.

Blood isn't Thicker than Rainwater

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Author Guidance for this Story

andrew180977 Main character starts off thinking he is dead. The question is, is he? He has no memory currently, is gradually becoming aware of sensations, but has no idea on exactly where he is, or how he got there.

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