~*articulate what forever smoulders*~

You continue to run, with no intentions of being caught for arson. The forensics will have the ability to soon enough, find out how the fire was born, until then, you know you must run. You'd wisely withdrew your wallet which contains about 50.00. It should at least last you a week on the streets. Perhaps you could gain a small job as a street cleaner. Or advertise some products for a certain restaurant or Market. All of these thoughts flood into your mind as you clamber over fences, dodge pedestrians, and switch corners. How will you survive this life on the streets? Logic is suavely persuading you to turn back, instincts are telling you to run, and find a new life in the city, needn't of the help or care of your father, the cruel images of a dirty, rotten prison sticks with your mind, which gives you the strength to keep on running.


After an hour of travelling. You finally decide to choose a decision. With a swift thought, you decide to...