Someone once asked me what do I know about life? How can someone so young have enough experience to fathom what is important to appreciate and fight for. Having no parents, no one to look up to and learn valuable lessons, growing up on streets full of strange and dark people . What do I know about anything being just some chick cracked from the eggshell. But I knew so much about survival, developing through the years some sort of sixth sense so I could feel vile from decent heart, fake from honest smile, rough from gentle touch. I was cunning enough to plaster genuine interest on my face if needed. There is no chance for someone to find me if I tried to hide, cos' I knew the most secretive places in town. Maybe I was only eighteen and not really pretty just interesting. Some would say that. But they only wanted one thing, to strip me from my youth and take everything from me so I was cautious. Was that a truth or just a bait? Only thing I knew is that my most valuable asset was my lips, they were full and beautifully shaped, raspberry in color and floral in smile. When I curl them on certain way it could bring glint right to the eyes making my face look radiant. And that was maybe my most lethal weapon 'cos I didn't have any means necessary for fighting, something needed when you live on the streets.
There is only few people I could call a friend. There was a Dorothy nicknamed Dotty, cos's she was so sparky girl. She had mum and they both lived on streets too, being real epitome of disguise and deceiving I have learn so much from them. They had some sort of home, something like a cottage made from old stuff, used doors, windows and so, mainly made from wooden things. Her mum was practically an artist, she used makeup so skillfully that she could transform some person's face into completely another. Of course I was in awe, I could do makeup she taught me really nice, but I wasn't so good. Or you are born with talent or you are not, it is a simple truth. If someone would ask me what skills do I possess it wouldn't be a list. It would be thing or two only. My biggest trait was honesty and sincerity followed by bluntnes. And that always had bad ending. I was toublemaker by all means.
Today's agenda was simple, be out and roam through the streets, try to sell some of made jewelry. Nothing fancy, few colorful rocks when I have luck to purchase and gold or silver petals or curvy chains that I crafted with my tools. I learned this few years ago from a nice guy, he was goldsmith. I pestered him constantly 'till he gave away and showed me few tricks. "The rest is on you" he said" I am wanderer, this place is only my temporarly station. Now you know basics, so if you have enough passion and talent you'll find finesse." And that was it, from that day I still try to figure out new ways to improve myself.
Night was falling fast, the streets are starting to become more dangerous than usual and that was my set alarm to pack my things and go into shelter. I had them few, on different locations in the city, being cautious was my motto. I started walking fast adjusting my hoodie to avoid potential drifters, trying to be invisible. It was summer night, unusual color of blue illuminated sky, my eyes was glued to the surface so I wasn't paying enough attention to surrounding. Something shifted in the air, shadows lurked in distance. I changed a pace, an alley, shiver run through my body, it was alert not fear. My mind was focused on next. A loud shot was heard followed by another and another 'til I coudn't count. I trembled, someting serious was happening ahead. There was a hidden place near, shelter beneath stairs that I discovered not long ago. Walled up strongly and cecured with lock I instaled it was not easily to find. I crowled inside, it had place for one bigger person so it was comfortable for me. And than I heard a sound like someone was running and suddenly stopped, leaned on the wall panting heavily. "Please help" was two words he uttered with husky male voice. I shifted my position uncomfortably not knowing what to do. It was dangerous to go out, to risk self unnecessary, but then my conscience started nagging. Should I leave a person to die in front of me, would I be so cold hearted? But then who knows what is hiding in the corners, what can suddenly emerge to suprise me. Still I am not a coward and it is not my style to be afraid 'cos I had my share of scary things already in life. Carafully I peecked out and tried to sniff the air. A distinctive metalic scent of blood disturbed my insides, my stomach started to churn. It's not that I am sensitive about blood, only sometimes it had strange effect on me, like some is more ticker than another. Out was semi-dark almost night, you couldn't see further in the distance. But he was close lying only meter away from me. He was strong, very handsome and nicely dressed in fine clothes, expensive one. I couldn't see his face, because his head has fallen on his chest. His slightly wavy hair has covered his eyes not reveling was he awake or not. The strange thing is there was no trace of blood around, could I be so wrong about that? But I could stilI smell it which made me very curious. With more caution then usally I took my steps lightly forward approaching with lots of tension and apprehension. Who was this man with hidden face? I knelt cautiously trying to reach him, to brush his hair off his forehead. Suddenly I spoted his hands, they where clasped around his upper abdomen so tightly that I couldn't move them when I tried. But when I put my hand up I saw a trace of blood, he was obviusly covering a wound with lots of strength of will. He stirred a little evidently disturbed by my touch, tilting his head slightly to one side so his hair fell off his eyes. That moment revealed his countours which were perfectly shaped with strong jaw, a bit angular and eyes even closed still being beautiful. There wasn't much time to think because who ever was after him was definitely very close. "Move, you need to get up" it was a high pitched cry uttered from the bottom of my lunges. His eyes flew open and I froze in a moment thinking "Fuck, what kind of color is that?"His vision cleared and it as momentarily pointed in my direction with full attention. "Hurry, there is place to hide" I said it with full desperation and he sprang on his feet with such ease like there is no wound at all. He towered over me like a giant and I could see that he has a quite muscular body with strong legs and hands. "Wake" I send myself a mental note and go round in direction of the shelter as fast as I could. He was by my side every inch and inside was even more closer because it was not meant for two person. "Lie down" I instructed and he silently obeyed. My medicine box was near with first aid kit and full of varius herbs so I reached out and took a handful of few and aplied on his wound. His face stayed calmed not showing a trace of pain or discomfort. It made quite impression on me and the fact that I was never so close to a man because that was something I evaded in the past like a plague. But now it was invitable because of low space and only thing I could do is to lay on him, being sprawled on his hard muscles engulfed by his burning warmth radiating from his body. Good God, it will be a challenge to endure this. And than I heard a footsteps, very light and in plural. He was chased by multiple person and it was hard to determine how much of them was in pursuit. My heart started to pound loudly so I put my hand to a chest trying to calm myself but the force of adrenaline and closeness of unknown men doubled my fear hoping we would't be caught. I never prayed before, but now I closed my eyes and layed my head on his chest and started to repet the words I heard long ago a bits I remember probably not correctly at all.