Theibus Delcario-
One more day, one more long painful day in the cold, gripping claws of reality. School had been a regular nightmare, it always was. Another failed test, math just wasn't his strongest category. He could imagine one of the game shows that ask trivia and being tied up over a tank of piranhas and still missing the question 2+2 which was his worst nightmare in Kindergarten. However, music was his escape he was especially skilled as a pianist but was a masterful musician overall specializing also, in jazz with a trumpet. Theibus was never exceptionally impressive, as a student, child, or leader of any form, but he never expected what was to unfold. Unsatisfactory.
The juveys had come in bright and early with an exceptionally hostile welcome to the San Francisco harvest camp "Golden Gate" harvest camp to be precise. It sounded like a disguised entry-way to Hell itself. The car ride was a long one, the longest ever in fact, to feel carsick the entire time. He couldn't help crying silent, bitter, tears good portion of the way as well, why would they do this? He faced their every last jab at his esteem with one in return, his usual parry.
"Hey, kid are you enjoying the view while it's still through your own two eyes into your own whole brain?" said one with strangely fake looking eyes
"I don't know are you going to enjoy being given a DUI for all the swerving your doing while your not looking at the road sir?" Theibus was polite. There was the key to his method, truly dig a nail into his heart that some "lowly unwind" could be the bigger and better person about it.
…...
Days had passed and finally; he had arrived. San Francisco, The Golden Gate harvest awaits. Theibus didn't participate in the activities he simply passed his opportunities to show off onto the others, let them let of steam if they must. Theibus had no motivation at all except the constant pecking at his brain to constantly check for his awaiting appointment. Then, one day, he heard it which rolled in one ear and out the other, "Theibus Delcario your presence is requested by the Golden Gate harvest clinic." His legs became a mixture of both jell-o, and lead. Was that possible? No, it might explain why he had a C in Chemistry. He stood bravely and marched half-prideful and half- frozen in short but graceful strides, finally taking in the scenery and surroundings. By the time that he took his final step into the room the door closing behind he was taken a-back. The room was empty, the window, open. He now casually waltzed towards it.
"Yes, finally my chance to live" He was overjoyed even at the sound of the entering medical staff. "Goodbye, I'd say it's been nice, but I'd be lying so good riddance. See you in Hell." He climbed out in a fret, closing the window behind, and leaned forward; falling. The roses outside sliced him deeply in his entanglement, but he was grateful for their presence, his ticket to surviving. Play, Dead. He was well hidden and skipped over for just long enough to run and squeeze in-between two pieces of barbed wire in the fence.
…...
The "Foxhole" his new home, in Denver Colorado. How he had gotten there remained a mystery to even himself, but he had to steal from nearby stores to survive. He awaited the closing in the vents and he logged everything he took. He'd pay someday; he hoped. The Foxhole was a strange fortress in a drainage pipe, on the side of a highway. It was dug out like a concrete sewer underground by a "dead" stream that no longer ran except in flood situations. And a small shallow river several feet down on the other side. An unsuspected hiding place; and he could block up both holes with rocks that fit them. In a flood? No worries he had learned how to hide in the trees. Little did he know, his worries were not even close to over.