Hello! I'm back again! Sorry this has taken me so very long to do!

I'd like to thank all my reviewers:

LillieBillie90210

Protego Totalum

Elaine Dawkins

Charlene Bates

Ilse Averil Haynsworth

Thank you all so much. All of you are very encouraging!

And on with chapter nine!

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CHAPTER 9

THE RUN AWAY

His heart pounded in his chest, his legs begged him to stop and rest, but he would not give in, not till he had gotten far away, yes very far away. He wanted to lose himself, he wanted to be somewhere he new nothing about. Give me a chance to live my life how I want. Give me a chance to forget about my past and leave it behind me. I want no more of it, I want no more, no more, no more, no more.

What was this place? Where....where....where. I'm lost, find yourself, here I am. Who am I? Fagin. You are a new person....don't forget that, don't forget who you are, don't ever forget again, understand? Good.

Blinding sunlight hit his eyes, oh the pain. Little by little he lifted his face off the ground and squinted out the landscape around him. A tree. Another tree. More trees. And there he was, Fagin at the age of thirteen, lying amongst the trees in a little clearing sprawled facedown on the earth, his bundle of things a couple feet away. Lying just as he had when he had collapsed for want of breath. He had fallen to sleep, a very peaceful sleep. The earth held him up, careful not to let this young boy fall to his death. Nature seemed to cry out for him to be spared as it looked down on his limp form. His head came crashing to the earth again. He felt himself as in a dream, as in a form of a small child wanting his mother to hold him. Where is she? I want her to hold me. Please come to me. She is in the past. Forget her. Remember?

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He trudged along a dirt road that was foreign to him. He sat down to take thought to his situation. London? For real? How would you live? How could you prosper? What would London have in store for a young thirteen year old boy? Nothing, there is nothing for you in London. But where would you go if not London? London. You're on you're own now, you rum old boy. I'm hungry. I'm thirsty. My throat is dry. It feels like it will crack up and blow away. Shut up. Think about your situation. I want my MOTHER! What did I say about that? She's in the pa... don't say it please don't! Leave me in peace!

Woof! Woof! The creature which uttered these noises came bounding into sight. "Back! Back I say! Get away from me! I don't want you!" But the dog didn't go away. The poor dog was dreadfully thin, it's golden hair was matted, and it had several cuts here and there, but over all a very happy dog, which was quiet amazing for it's sorry condition. Fagin began to relax as he saw the dog was really not harmful. He reached out his hand and the dog bounded gladly to it. He scratched it's head, then behind it's ear, then down it's back and all the way down it's long, golden tail. He was beginning to enjoy the company very much, when suddenly a man's gruff voice could be heard yelling: "Snap! Come're boy! Snap! Ya here me callin' ye, ye young scamy wag!" The dog's tail drooped, and then a soft mournful whine could be heard. A figure appeared around the bend in the road. An man average size, but stockily built with bushy salt and pepper hair and farm clothes with a pair of old working boots could be seen clearly. "Ya here me call, boy?" The dog quickly sauntered over to the man with it's head and tail drooping. The burly man gave ready to kick, but upon seeing a small figure out of the corner of his eye hastily put his leg back down. Looking over, the man became quiet angry to realize that it was just a young boy from who he was trying to cover up his rough actions from.

"What you lookin' at?" The man demanded.

"Nothing sir." Fagin answered honestly. "A very sweet dog you have! I asume he's yours?"

"At's right. Sounds like you've got quite a bit of a hoarse throat there, boy. What be ye name?"

"Fagin. That's right sir, I'm very thirsty, been running a lot."

"Runnin' away eh?"

Fagin felt the color rush to his cheeks. He hung his head. "Yes sir." His voice was small. "How did you know?"

"Ha! I've known many a young lads in my time know how they think!" The man laughed grufly. "Wacha' runnin away from?"

"My father, well he's not my real father but.....I lost my mother, I don't want to live there anymore." Fagin felt the 'oh so familier lump' rise in his throat.

"Well ya lookin' for a job youngin'?" The man asked, what Fagin thought, an interesting question. He hadn't thought of that!

"Do you know of any place that would take me?" He bounded on the question.

"I need a boy to help me on the farm, seein' as how I ain't got no boy's ovin' me own. You know somethin' of farm work?" He questioned.

"Oh yes sir! I lived on a farm. Will you take me sir?" He was breathless.

"Of course I'll take ya in boy, just as long as you need a roof over ye head. Just call me Mr. Hicks, and you can sleep in the barn loft, and ya get a little pay every week and some food to go with it. Can't get any better than that eh? Do we have a deal?" He smiled holding out his hand.

A barn loft? Well it was better than nothing, just think of the food and pay! "You got a deal Mr. Hicks." Hands shook and a deal was on.

A new home already sooner than young Fagin had expected.