I hid in an alley, crouched down with my knees to my chest. I was silent, but my heart was beating so loud and fast I was almost sure it would give me away. The reason I was hiding, the reason I was so nervous, was that the cops were coming after me. Of course, I'd done this before, but the pestering anxiety that I might get caught never, and I mean never, went away.
Just thinking of the police putting my small wrists into their cuffs, or the dogs tackling me to the ground after I had run so far to get make a getaway. Plus I couldn't just stop stealing or selling drugs and my own body, because if I did, there's a possibility of being killed by my own father. If they knew what was going on I wouldn't be so hated, but as of now I was about to get sentenced to jail for life so I don't have time to think about how unlucky I am.
The sound of pounding paws hitting the ground startled a cat whom had been perched on the trash can across from me, it hopped down from the can causing the can to raddle and shake. I cursed under my breath, and knew immediately what to do. I jumped up and started to climb the barbed wire fence in front of me.
The barbed wire was only at the top so I knew if I can somehow avoid it I'd be fine. They were so close. I can hear the dogs barking and the footsteps of the police men getting closer and closer by each passing minute. I was trying to quickly and swiftly get my legs over the barbed wire resulting in the barbed wire scraping my thigh.
I held my tongue trying not to cry out in pain. I could feel the blood running down my leg, but I had to keep going before they caught me. Instead of trying to climb down the rest of the way, I just jumped down not so gracefully falling in the process. My adrenaline was running so the pain was dull enough to ignore.
I heard the police turn into the alley is was in. The dogs barked and sighs as well as curses escaped their mouths. The disappointment was obvious even as I ran as far as I could handle.
Pants came harder and faster, as I came around the corner. My home was right in front of me. I raced into another alley. I pushed the wooden board I always kept propped over the hole. This was the way I got into my house after I was told to commit a crime.
I crawled through the hole quickly, making sure the wood was covering the hole. I was on my hands and knees until I reached the small space I call home. In reality, It wasn't even a home, it was an old, grunge basement of an abandoned hotel.
I lived in a part of town known for being the hood. No one drove down the street with out their doors locked and 911 ready to be called at the press of a button.
I saw my dad, on the couch, asleep with a beer bottle rolling on the ground. There was a mustache like line of white powder on his upper lip.
When he woke up, I would be beaten until every inch of me was bruised. This is the life I lived. I was America's most wanted and it was all because of my dead beat dad.
Sighing, I went to my small part of the basement. My baby boy laid in his little blanket. I pulled my shirt down, as well as my bra so that I could feed the baby.
I considered suicide, but before I pulled the rope, I felt a kick. I simply thought I had just gained weight but actually I was carrying a baby boy in there the whole time.
The father's identity was unknown, but that didn't matter. Baby Luke was my lifeline and I was his.
I started over because I hated it.. Thanks to my lovely beta you can now read this without difficulty
