Sorry it took me so long to update, I have so many great ideas for the Katya storyline, but I've just been so lazy to type it, but 3925030285 millions years later I've updated it! So Enjoy! And leave a review too! :D

2 Years later:
Here I am. Still in Italy, I don't know how, but I survived.
Actually I do know how. The voices.
The voices that always pop into mind.
The voices being my mother and Roland.
My Rolly.
I miss him so much.
Even though it's been 2 years, I still think about him every day.
I think of how I wish I had told him I loved him sooner.
So we could have had more of a relationship.
But I didn't.
Anyway, you may be wondering, hey Katya, how did you survive exactly, other than the help of your dead friend and mom's voices?
Well, I'll tell you , just in case you may ever get into a situation like me. Believe me it could happen, I mean I never thought something ridiculous like this could happen to me, but it did.
Anyway I've become fluent in speaking/writing and reading Italian, by visiting the local library (2 years and they still give me weird looks, they know I don't belong).
And believe or not, but I've made a friend. Yeah I know it's ridiculous.
I'll tell you how this seemingly impossible thing happened.

2 years ago:
My heavy panting seemed to echo throughout the dark empty alley.
My stomach growling from hunger, I bit into the stolen piece of bread. I could still hear the baker yelling profanities at the thief (that thief being me)
I felt bad, but what else could I do?
I didn't want to starve to death.
I settled down in the seemingly silent dark alley.
I tried savoring the taste and eating slowly but I was too hungry and eager to eat slowly.
I leaned back against the brick cold wall of the apartment as a tiny rat scurried across the alley.
The rat's nose twitching, searching for some food.
Like me.
Is that what I am now?
A rat?
My self pitying thoughts were interrupted once I heard heavy angered footsteps coming my way.
Crap! I guess I didn't lose the baker.

I hid behind a trash can seeing as though I couldn't possibly escape now, with him so near.

I tucked my tiny body behind the trash can as the rat vanished also.
My labored breathing halted as the footsteps stopped not much farther than a foot away from me.
"I could kill him... I should have listened to my..." Mumbled a woman through sobs as she disposed of her trash bag in the garbage can.
Me being the stupid me the I am, let out a way too loud sigh of relief.
I immediately placed my hand over my mouth as I noticed she stopped mumbling once I sighed.
Sweat beaded down my forehead as she grew aware of my presence.
Stupid stupid stupid Katya!
Crap! If she finds me , which she no doubt will, I'll be turned into the government and forced to live with a bunch of-
"Hello?" Said a gentle female voice.
My pupils dilated trying to see the face of the voice's owner.
She cautiously walked closer, her footsteps now lighter.
She was sniffling as though she were crying.
I tried inching away from the girl, but it was too late.
She drew out a match and lit it the fire sparked and all 2 feet of our proximity revealed each other.
I stopped my movements, including my breath, as I looked up at the beautiful young girl.
She had gorgeous flowing brown hair, she couldn't have been older than 22 and she had what seemed to be a beautiful face, but was badly bruised.
She had also stopped her breath but quickly gained it back, whereas I took longer to restore my breath.
We must have stared at each other for 20 seconds, before she finally said something.
The whole while I sat there staring up at her, hoping she wouldn't turn me in.
She reached down to me in a graceful way, but me being me.
I flinched.
"It's okay" She said in a calm voice.
Her eyes were still glistening from the tears and you could hear the lump in her throat.
I looked at her cautiously, letting her pull me up to my feet.
"Who are you?" She asked as she examined my dirty appearance.
I don't know how, but someway I had worked up the nerve to talk back to her.
"I could ask you the same thing." I said in a low voice, hardly audible.
My throat was as shocked as I, since I only talk to people when absolutely necessary.
She gave me an examining eye, then for some reason she smiled.
Even though she walked into an alley with a freshly bruised face and tears streaming down her face, she smiles at an orphan with an attitude.
I bet she thinks she's better than me and is glad to see someone with a worse life than her.
Suddenly all of these accusations rushed through my mind and I grew enraged.
All this time of my thinking she just stood there looking at me with some empty look.

My anger took the best of me:
"What?!" I yelled at her, surprising her as she stepped back from me.
"I- I'm sorry" She said quietly through tears.
I suddenly felt very bad.

"I-I didn't mean to scare you, I just-" I began
"No it's okay, I shouldn't have been staring." She replied through decreasing sobs.
"I'm Katya" I answered hesitantly. I felt so stupid and mean for yelling at someone who seemed so nice.
"Claire" She responded shaking my dirty hands.
I grew ashamed of my appearance and it started to show as my head looked towards the ground.
"Hey, it's okay. I won't judge." She replied in such a gentle warming voice I couldn't help but to let a tear drip down my cheek.
Damn it Katya, get your shit together! You don't even know this chick!
"You hungry?" She asked as I tried to conceal myself wiping away the tears.
I nodded as I looked up at her, her tears stained cheeks, glistening against the light of the moon.
I didn't feel so alone anymore, knowing she was also crying.
Pretty selfish, but you know.
"I'll be right back, I've got leftovers." She replied smiling.

Present day:
Yep and that's how I made a friend.
We talk everyday, she hasn't much of anything else to do, because she's a childless housewife.
I talked to her only once in our 2 years of knowing each other, about her constant bruises, caused by her egomaniac husband.
I begged her to leave him, but she claims she has nowhere else to go.
And well, I can't argue with her about that, seeing as though I'm kind of in the same predicament.

I get food everyday by obtaining leftovers from Claire, which I'm grateful for though it isn't much, it's very kind of her.
I also work a very low paying job at the outside market, in which I scale fish. I get paid below minimum , because the manager agreed not to turn me in to the authorities as long as I agreed to a poor paycheck.
I haven't any other choice.
It's the best I could do.
But anyway, so that's my life.
I still live in the same alley that I met Claire in.
That rat still scurries through every night.
Whenever I have enough I give him some little bits of food.
So yeah.
And in case you're wondering, yes I still have nightmares.
I've learned to contain them though.
Not saying I can stop them, but I've learned not to scream in my sleep, otherwise the neighbors would complain and I'd been in a foster home or something.
Lost in my thoughts of reviewing my last 2 years of living, I walk down the routine cold brick road as I enter into my beautiful alley (not beautiful at all...sarcasm).
It's cold and wet outside.
But I can handle it.
I climb into my tiny cardboard box (cliche, huh?) in the far corner of the alley and start to feast on the leftover fish I got from my job.
My little rat friend comes up to beg.
I happily oblige and give him the eye.
Bon Appetite.
Oh yeah and I've been studying French, not like I've got much of anything else to do, might as well educate myself.
The rat sits there nibbling on the eyeball, but to my surprise quickly runs away as though something were approaching.
I look through my little self made peek hole, I made in case of intruders.
"Shit." I mutter as I see a pair of male worn out sneakers.