The night was dark and peaceful. No stars, but you couldn't expect much in the city--even as people ran out of money to pay their bills, light pollution does its job. We've destroyed this planet for good, it can only cling to the edge for so long.

That wasn't my problem though. If I didn't find a better way to steal food--heck, if I couldn't get food in the first place--I'd be dead long before the world ended. Right now it's dangerous to stay with these people. In their eyes I was at the bottom of the food chain. They'd get rid of me eventually. I just needed to wait for the right moment, then slip away while the others weren't watching...

"Ravin?"

The night tore itself apart, replaced with a burning pain that ate away at my ribs with each ragged breath. I opened my eyes, disconcerted. A young woman stared back at me. I frowned. Was she a part of the gang? And where were the others? I thought we were supposed to meet up at one of our safe houses...

I looked down, and the sight sent a flash of panic through me. A couple of towels were pressed into my bare side, soaked thoroughly with my own blood. It dripped steadily onto the wooden floor, joining a growing pool of the dark liquid.

Calm down, I told myself. I was still alive. I wasn't like the rest of them who Nox killed while breaking into a store. But just the thought of the gang leader made my skin crawl.

"They took whatever you stole," the woman said. She tipped the open end of a wine bottle onto a clean towel, wetting it. I wrinkled my nose as the sickly sweet smell invaded my nostrils. Now that my eyes have adjusted to the darkness, I can see walls of shelves stocked full with liquor bottles, staring back at us. A liquor shop. I shifted uneasily against the desk I was propped up against, but the movement only intensified the pain. I hissed.

"If you think that hurt, you'll hate this," the woman remarked as she gently peeled away the towels from my chest. I fought down the nausea as I stared at the ugly wound. It looked deep. "But I need to disinfect it, alright? So hold still."

"Do I know you?"

Her hands stilled, then pulled back slightly from my wound. "It's really been that long, huh?" She glanced at me with a tired expression. That was when I got a good look at her face. Like a splash of cold water, I realized it was the same face that Dad would wear every time he stumbled home from work.

"Sama...No way..."

She still had Dad's long face, small nose and raven-dark eyes that the both of us shared. But she'd changed. There were deep shadows under her eyes that she'd usually conceal with makeup. Her hair was in knots and tangles, her clothes worn and dingy from wearing the same things every day. Even the leather jacket she sported was odd; the Sama I knew would never have worn something like that.

"Took you long enough," Sama said. I couldn't tell if she was bitter or amused. Maybe both. She started to pat my wound with the alcohol-soaked towel. I winced and squirmed at every touch, biting my lip as I tried to focus my thoughts elsewhere.

The last time I saw my sister, she had been kneeling beside Mom, struggling to hold in her tears. Mom had pleaded for Sama to look out for me--a request made with her dying breath. Like a fool, Sama had promised.

The same night, I had packed all of my things and left the house, unnoticed.

"What were you thinking?" Sama asked, bringing me back to the present. She started to bandage my torso. Everything about her was robotic and slow: her movements, her words, the way she blinked. "I knew you were an idiot, but joining a gang? You're lucky I found you."

"I didn't have a choice."

2/5 will be posted on January 19th at 3PM PST.