I can feel the boy's eyes on me. He's making me nervous. I turn to Goldie; her milk-chocolate eyes are filled with concern.

The glass on the floor is pushing its way through my tattered jeans. I pull out a few shards. My jeans are still wet from the river. The boy looks at me anxiously. He's waiting. His honey eyes are a mix of confusion and concern.

I begin my story. I start right from the beginning.

"When I was little, my family and I lived in the bushlands of Stalie. We were a happy family, my Dad, my Mom, my older sister… and me. It snowed up there and we were so happy. We played in the snow and laughed. Like a normal, happy family. We would go down to the beach and would build huge sandcastles and play in the water. Every second weekend we camp out in the forest. Every Thursday, me and my sister would get a treat. An ice-cream or a lollipop… It was always something sweet. My sister and I were the best of friends. Always telling each other secrets, playing and sharing lollies… But then… things don't always stay the way you want them do they? One day…. My Dad got sick. Mom looked for someone to blame and pinned it on me and my sister. Dad would watch from his room as Mom blamed us for every little thing. When Dad got better, he left. Mom starting drinking really heavily, shot after shot of whiskey and grappa…" I shiver at the memory and the boy gently places a hand on my shoulder. I continue, "Then Mom started abusing us. I would hide under my bed the moment I heard her open the bottle of alcohol. Because I knew what would come next. My sister copped the worst of it, as she was always protecting me… I'd seen her bruises. I knew what had caused them. Mom's fingers were always the exact same length and shape of the bruises twisting around her arms. My sister accidently broke one of Mom's china plates. Mom hit her again and again with a branch off of a tree. I would hide under my bed, hearing my sister screams and the whoosh of air behind the branch. I would cry and cry. The tears were salty and they stung my cuts. That would always make me cry even more. One night, my sister woke me up, telling me that she was going to run away. We had both learnt to steal, because, as much as we hated doing it, it kept us fed and alive. She had stolen food and water. She asked me to come with her. But I didn't. I was too scared. I was frightened that Mom would catch me. She gave me a small stuffed bear and wrote my name on its label. "His name is Gunner. He'll be your friend. Goodbye Amber." She jumped out of my window and ran. I watched her disappear into the bushes. For ages I wished I had followed. The next morning, Mom went wild, asking where my sister was. I lied to her and told her I didn't know. She slapped me and smashed her glass on the ground. I was frightened and tried to run. She tripped me and the right side of my face landed on the glass. I was constantly hit. This went on for three years. Yesterday, Mom got really drunk. She brought a broken glass to me head and managed a small cut as I jumped away. I ran and hid in the corner of the room. Mom found me and swore at me. She pulled me out of my hiding spot and grabbed my hair. She slammed me against the cupboard and left me on the floor. When she walked out, I grabbed my backpack. I was already prepared to run away. There was a stick under the bed and I broke the window with it and jumped out. I ran away and made it to the cliff. I fell off of the edge and woke up here, in Tressia. That's my story…"

My lip quivers and the tears start rolling. Goldie hugs me gently and the boy is still there, his hand on my shoulder. His eyes are filled with nothing except sorrow and worry. His left eye is harder, as the scar is rough and jagged, like he's had stiches.

Goldie smells like apples, but there is the faint smell of dog there too. The boy smells like chocolate.

I look up at him.

"So what's your story, Mr. No-Name?"

He smiles gently.

"My name's Riley. I'll tell you my story some other time." He frowns, "What was your sister's name?"

I look up.

"Her name was Teo, which was short for Teodora. Our family had a thing for long names."

Goldie looks up at Riley, her eyes full of shock and amusement.

"Riley, you don't think…?"

Riley grins.

"There's only one way to find out. Let's go!"