Specter7 here, once again. I like this chapter and I hope you do to. Have a good read and...
May the Force be with you.
Ezra Bridger deftly snuck his hand into his victim's pocket and pulled out a wad of money. Ezra hid it behind his back and began to walk away yet it seemed as if his luck had run out.
The victim, a young (apparently alert) man, turned as Ezra walked away. "Hey!" the victim shouted. "Hey, that kid's a thief! Stop him! Someone stop him!"
Ezra took off sprinting and ran straight into...
Oh no, Ezra thought despairingly.
Social Services. They found me again.
There were two people in front of him. One social servicer steadied Ezra.
"Hey," she said, "are you okay?"
Ezra tried to pull away and the social servicer looked closer.
"Hey!" she said, shocked. "You're the kid we're looking for. Ezra Bridger-"
Ezra jerked away from the two people and ran in the opposite direction. They found me again, Ezra thought, a pit of despair caving inside him. I'll have to go on the run again.
"Hey, Ezra!" a social servicer called after him. "Hey, wait! It's okay..."
Ezra kept on running until the person's voice faded. His chest heaved and each inhale was a gasp as he sprinted. Ezra turned down an alley and finally slowed to a stop. He was still panting as he moved some garbage around, revealing a small hole in the brick wall. It was the perfect hiding place.
Ezra crawled in the dank, dark crevice and pulled the bags of garbage back over the opening. His breath was heavy and his heart was still pounding as he huddled up in the small space. Suddenly, Ezra heard the sound of footsteps. He froze.
A man sighed. "I can't believe we're still on this kid's case," Ezra heard someone say.
And then a woman replied, "Me either. But I feel bad for him. He lost his parents when he was only seven. Seven. Can you believe that?"
The man kicked some of the garbage around and Ezra's heart beat furiously. "Yeah," the man said. "I believe it. The world's a messed up place. I hope we find him soon. You think someone would adopt the kid?"
"Not really," Ezra heard the woman admit.
He froze.
"You know how it is," the woman continued. "The older a kid is, the harder it is to find someone who wants to adopt them. The kid's fifteen years old. You see a future of anyone adopting him?"
Ezra couldn't hear them speaking anymore. The words the lady had just spoken ran around in his head.
"The kid's fifteen years old. You see a future of anyone adopting him?"
Ezra put his hands against his ears but the words still rang. He shut his eyes tight and clenched his teeth.
It's not true, he thought despairingly. It's not true!
"The kid's fifteen years old. You see a future of anyone adopting him?"
Ezra hugged himself as a tear welled up in a tightly closed eye. It trickled down his cheek and Ezra tried desperately to control his emotions. He never cried like that. Never. But what the lady had said hit a soft spot in his heart. Ezra wanted to try and think that there was someone out there that would love him and want to adopt him. But when Social Services had picked Ezra up when he was seven and plopped him in an orphanage, he had waited for someone to come for him. He'd waited for four years for someone to adopt him. But when no one came, on Ezra's eleventh birthday he'd ran away. And he'd been on the run ever since.
Ezra paused when he realized something.
I don't hear any footsteps, he thought. They're gone.
Ezra hesitantly nudged the garbage bags out of the way and scooted into the open alley. He swished his longish jet-black hair out of his electric blue eyes and looked around.
The Social Service people were definitely gone, which meant it was time for Ezra to leave too.
He rummaged around the alley, looking for something. After moving the mountains of trash bags, Ezra finally found it. He ripped off the tarp and smiled.
It was his dirt bike. Or really some random guy's dirt bike that Ezra had sort of borrowed permanently. And it was his ticket to freedom.
Ezra pulled the dirt bike up and put the key in the ignition. As it rumbled to life, Ezra pulled the hood of his jacket over his head and peeled out of the alley. His raven-colored hair whipped across his face as he sped faster and faster. He dodged people and screams echoed in his ears. The dirt bike hopped the curb and Ezra weaved in between cars with expert skill.
"Freedom," Ezra yelled to the wind, "here I come!"
The dirt bike broke down after forty minutes.
Stranded in the middle of nowhere, Ezra pulled out a map from his jacket pocket. He traced all the criss-crossed lines until he finally found where he was.
"There," Ezra muttered to himself. "One and a half miles away from... what is that? Lothal County?"
He examined the little lined in area. For a county, Lothal County was incredibly small. It was more like a town rather a county.
Ezra sighed and glanced at his dirt bike. Smoke curled off it in wisps and the smell of burning rubber surrounded the bike.
"I can't just leave it," Ezra muttered to himself. That hunk of junk was his ticket to freedom! Without it, he'd have to travel on foot to go anywhere, and it wasn't exactly easy to steal a dirt bike every time he needed a ride. Maybe I can get it fixed, Ezra thought hesitantly. There's bound to be a mechanic shop in Lothal County.
He stood, nodding to himself. It wasn't exactly a brilliant plan, but Ezra could use the money he stole from the victim earlier that day to pay for the repairs that would need to be done with his dirt bike. And he would only be staying in Lothal County for a day or two-tops.
Ezra cringed, but pushed his feelings away. I don't mind going from one place to the next, Ezra told himself. I don't care. Being on the run? It's what I do best. I survive, and if being on the run is what it takes to survive... Then, suck it up, Bridger.
Ezra stood silently, fighting to control his emotions. Yeah, he was alone. But alone was who he was. Alone was all he would ever be.
I survive, Ezra told himself. That's what I do. That's what I am.
And nothing under all the stars will ever change that.
See where everything ties in? In this next chapter I'll connect all the dots. This story is about to really take off. So hold your breath, cross your fingers, here we go!
Specter7 out.