It was a cold and gray night. The streets were wet by the rain and only the sirens from emergency vehicles could be heard. Echoed far away barking of a dog. The lights were related in almost all windows and only those who worked night at the factory was up.
No one heard the quick steps toward the cold street. No one saw the shadow of a running person. No one noticed that he stumbled upon the worn shoes and landed in a cold puddle. Not a single person cared that he was cold, or that he had no place to go. He ran without a goal, the only thing he wanted was to get away. One way out was to die, but he was too cowardly.
"It's damn not a person who cares about you, you little rat!" had his father screaming. It had been cold words and they ended up straight in the heart. "You are not worth anything and it was a mistake that I let you come into the world."
He cried and kept on running. His father was right. It was a mistake!
"Your mother was fucking smart that left us before she got to see what crap it was of you!"
The words echoed in his head.
"It's your fault that I didn't get any job, because who wants to hire a dad at such a freak?"
Harsh words, blows from the strap and no food to quench the hunger with. He was used. He knew it was the life that he had received. There was nothing that could change that and there was no one would care.