Surviving on the street as two kids of barely fourteen was tough. Especially having to take care of someone like Claus.
An aristocratic brat that only ate fancy food all his life wasn't the type to go dumpster diving, steal or beg. Prideful and whiny, Claus was a bigger challenge than the street itself.
I knew how to fight, to claw and to use my scent to eliminate any threat that might have come around us. Any last one of them.
I found an abandoned dumpster. Big metal thing, heavy.
I pushed it with all the strength I had, my bones feeling like they would snap. It scraped the ground and made a sound that cut through the night.
I thought someone would hear.
No one came.
I kept pushing until it was far enough from the street, hidden behind a pile of junk and some broken walls.
I tore at the side with a piece of sharp metal until my hands bled.
I cut out a space big enough for me to crawl through.
Took me all night.
