Finally a longer chappy (even though it isn't that long)! I didn't really know how to begin this one, so I just started with . . . well, you guys can read it.And I didn't know what to name the chapter, so I made something up.Um . . . yeah . . . I don't really know what else to say . . . I'm supposed to be doing my English homework, but I'm not doing a very good job concentrating . . .

Yeah . . .

Alright, just read the chapter already!

And so the tale continues . . .

"After several days of treacherous walking, I eventually stumbled across the city. I had been feeding on anything I could find ––– frozen berries, brittle bark, anything subside my ravenous hunger. Thankfully, it was winter and not the dry summer because I ate the snow to ease my dehydration. I was lucky enough to be able to wrap some cloth from my pants around my wounds inflicted by the wolf, just like I'd seen my mother do. I was also very fortunate that I wasn't attacked again.

"Anyway, when I finally reached the city, I was stunned at what I found. People were everywhere and busy, too, but . . . it was different.

"Before, the people seemed so interesting, exciting, and caring. Now, the harsh reality encased me once more. As I wandered through the streets a second time, people bumped me, and shoved me, and didn't care. Not one apologized. I don't think one even noticed I even existed. I had expected to be welcomed with open arms . . . but instead I was pushed away. Because nobody cares about a stupid green boy with no place to go.

"In the allies I found homeless people ––– people like me. They were gruff and cruel and . . . sad. They had all lived and lost. They had all experienced and died."

I do not understand. Were these people not alive?

"They were living physically ––– barely ––– but their souls no longer breathed. Their hearts no longer beat. They were dead ––– on the inside," he explained solemnly. He was looking up at the ceiling.

"I began to form into them. I awkwardly fit in ––– yet I did not. I was separate. Together yet so utterly alone . . .

"There was nowhere left to go. There was no more hope left to thrive on. I had lost everything that I had, and I was still a young child.

"So I stayed. I really had no choice. The streets became my home, and my memories was the closest I could get to love. Over time, my clothes grew ragged and bruises became regular. I–––"

Bruises? What from? she suddenly interrupted.

He laughed bitterly. "From getting caught stealing, of course. I was never very good at that . . ."

Why did you steal? she inquired immediately.

"I was homeless. I didn't have parents. I didn't have money. That was basically my only choice," he replied flatly.

She appeared thoughtful for a moment. Oh.

"Anyway, I lived my life in sorrow, drowning in it. I was in so deep, it was like I was gasping for air, looking for any chance of relief." He shook his head regretfully. "I lived that way for over a year, struggling for my physical and emotional health."

It was difficult, was it not?

"Yes," he responded. "It was. I did have one ghostly fragment of relief, though."

What do you mean? she inquired.

"Well, I was alone and isolated for a couple months. Then, out of nowhere, a bony dog appeared at my side one day. He didn't leave, either, even though I had no food or shelter to offer."

Strange . . .

"What do you mean?"

You gained your first companion . . .

"Yeah . . . so?"

It was a dog, was it not?

"Yes, it was dog. So what?"

The dog is related to the wolf. The wolf attacked you . . . and the dog befriended you. This is most perplexing . . .

"What are you talking about?" he asked, starting to get annoyed.

Well, this is not supposed to happen . . . the spirits were acting bizarre . . .

"You're not answering my question!"

You see, the white wolf is a sign of destruction and death, yet you lived through its tragic power. Then, the dog should have been equally as cruel and unforgiving, yet it became a companion of yours. This is most puzzling. Why do these signals not prevail for their purpose? How are you overcoming their power? The dog must have left some painful mark on you, though. Surely it left some form of scar on you . . .

He processed the information she just gave him. "The dog did leave a mark," he remembered. "Not visibly, but he scarred my heart."

It was her turn to be confused. What do you mean? she asked.

"We became the best of friends ––– each other was all we had. It seems strange that there can be such a strong bond between an animal and a human, but that's what happened. He went wherever I did. He helped me when I needed it. He kept me company when I was feeling lonely. He was always there for me, just as I was for him. I finally had someone to love me again.

"And then, it was ruined. Again."

She waited patiently for him to continue. He shook his head.

"He left."

What? He ––– abandoned you? After all you had been through together? Why?

"I don't know. I woke up one day and he was just gone. He would be gone in the morning sometimes, but he'd always come trotting back after I woke up."

So what happened?

"He didn't come back."

They sat in silence for a moment, the girl absorbing what had been said. I see. After the dog left, what became of you? she inquired thoughtfully.

"I moved on. There was no use for me once more. A useless waste of space . . ."

That is not true.

He glanced up at her skeptically. "Yeah right. How would you know?"

She paused for a moment. No being is ever useless. Existence always has a purpose. The reason of existence of a certain being is always decided upon not by themselves, so their purpose may be unclear to them. However, no being is purposeless, no matter if some believe in their alleged uselessness so strongly.

He glanced off, still unconvinced. Of course he was useless. There was no way she could know if he had a purpose or not. She didn't know him.

"Anyway, so I moved on and went back to stealing."

Yes.

"Okay, it was a dark night, and I had broken into a bakery market. There were no lights, but I had become skilled in seeing the dark. I had just turned eight, and I was already a talented criminal.

"I was gathering some food when I heard the front doors to the market burst open. I had no time to react when I was punched in the stomach and thrown against the wall. I knew I'd been caught and prepared to be beaten. I forced my face to become indifferent and uncaring as the blows rained upon me. I wouldn't give them the satisfaction of my pain.

"Suddenly, the lights turned on, and I faced my captor. Out of nowhere, a woman said, 'Wait, Mento. He's just a child.' I looked around to see the one who'd been punishing me ––– a large man with a stern face. Mento. I saw the woman, too, who was peering at me with a strange expression, as if surprised by me. There was also a huge metal man near them, who was very intimidating, along with another man who was wrapped in many bandages by the light switch.

"The woman suddenly began to slowly approach me. I started to back away, but I hit the wall. I slid down to the floor and pulled my knees fearfully watching the woman come closer and closer. She removed her hand from her side, and began to reach it towards me. I thought she was going to slap me, but instead, she reached her hand towards mine and gently helped me off the ground. I looked at her, surprised.

"'Shh, shh, it's okay,' the woman crooned when I began to whimper in fear of her. I didn't understand ––– no one wanted me. No one cared. Why was this stranger showing such warmth?" His eyes darted to the girl, then back, the paradox strange.

"Anyway, she kindly asked me why a child like me was stealing, though I refused to answer her. 'A silent one, huh?' she chuckled playfully. I hadn't heard laughter for so long, I instantly hugged her, so happy to have someone to hold me again. She laughed again and hugged me back.

"I could tell that Mento was becoming impatient. 'Let's go,' he said forcefully to the woman. I was astonished that she didn't move, still holding me in her arms.

"'We can't just leave him, Steve,' she responded. I assumed at first that she was talking to one of the other two, but the reply was directed at Mento. Being a naïve child, I was puzzled. I didn't realize that 'Mento' was merely an identity cover for a prestigious crime-fighter."

Crime-fighters? Is that what they were?

"The best at the time," he nodded.

I see. Did these heroes have a collective title?

"Yeah," he said. "The Doom Patrol."

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