[CONTENTID1] The Streets [/CONTENTID1]

[CONTENTID2] Chapter 1  [/CONTENTID2]

[CONTENTID3]  [/CONTENTID3]

[CONTENTID4]                                                                                 

Taehyung was running.

He knew the area like nobody else, every inch of the streets, every tiny crack in the walls.

He panted, turned right at full speed, grabbed a street light pole to use the momentum to his advantage, and flew around the corner.

Three more steps, and he was at one of his hideout spots. After he crawled under the small fence, he stood up again and hid behind a wall.

He heard footsteps.

They were coming closer.

And closer.

„Where is that brat?!“ he heard a voice and another was answering but he didn't understand it.

Taehyung held his breath, his hair tickled him on his nose, but he didn´t dare to move. Sure, he was hidden pretty well, but these guys were no joke. He got in trouble with them a lot, fishing in their area.

„Aish! That damn brat, I don´t know anybody who is as fast as him...“ the voice growled.

„Let´s go... we´ll catch him next time.“

The footsteps slowly died away.

Taehyung waited for another 2 minutes before he sat down and leaned himself on the wall, trying to put his legs in a comfortable position.

He smiled and took out the wallet in his pocket.

An easy prey, high schooler.

But he had to enter another area that was not his own. Other gangs of street kids were hanging around there, too. Everybody was fighting for territory.

For victims.

Taehyung opened the wallet and sighed, when he saw a few coins, nothing more.

„Easy prey, but didn´t help at all...“ he whispered.

He was hungry.

He hated to admit it, but his stomach was killing him. The last time he ate something had been yesterday in the morning, a friendly lady had given him a couple of coins, and he had bought some bread.

This day had been hell.

Usually, it was okay. Fights here and there, a little running. He was avoiding the police, sleeping in the park. But since this morning, he had these other kids on his so he was forced into hiding the whole day and not able to get anything to eat or rob somebody.

All the running had made him dizzy. His body was screaming for food.

„Guess I´ll have no other choice.“ he groaned when he stood up, and his head started spinning.

The streets were packed with people, couples or single, families or elders. It was a Saturday. And a lot of wallets. But a lot of police too.

Taehyung was a street kid. That was nothing illegal.

But stealing was illegal.

Or fighting on the street against other street kids.

Three years ago, he ran away from an orphanage.

The people had been friendly, but he felt caged. Against his will, every time, the same routine, food that he didn´t like, games that he didn´t want to play.
Staring out of the window all day long, something deep within him was hoping that his parents would return. That it had been a misunderstanding.

But they never came back.

Taehyung endured this hell of boringness for four years. When he was fourteen, he decided to run away. As expected, nobody tried to hold him. The other orphanage kids were way younger than him. One or twice a month, a kid found a new family. When you were younger than two years, it was easy. Older than three years, it wasn’t easy. Older than five years was a wonder. Over ten years, impossible.

„God, I hate that ...“ he pestered at himself when he walked towards the main street.

When he started his street life, he was a kid full of pride and stubbornness.

But these two things didn´t fill the stomach and didn´t help him find a place to sleep. He still had his pride in certain things, but he had adjusted to the life he was living now.

Jungkook ran to the door. A mail deliverer was standing in front of it.

He opened it, and the deliverer jumped in surprise at his sudden appearance.

„Sorry...“ Jungkook mumbled.

„I have a certified mail for you. You need to sign it.“
„Sure.“

Jungkook gr