People were screaming. That's all he could hear. They were calling out to him, calling him back to the life he once knew. It was all too loud, he didn't understand. So he ran. He ran and ran and ran until the sidewalks of his home were turned into a maze of trees. He frantically looked at his surroundings, hoping that his so-called "parents" hadn't followed him. When he turned back around, a path had opened up. He hadn't remembered there being a path. Reluctantly he decided on going down it, not wishing to face his family. It felt as of the path went on forever. The nearby bushes seemed to be rustling. The small boy jumped at the noise and turned towards where the sound had come from. He looked along the ground for something to defend himself with. On the floor beside him was a short stick, not even long enough to fight off a fly. Whatever was in the bushes seemed to be getting closer and closer, but now the noise sounded like it was coming from behind him. Before he could react he was grabbed by a pair of arms. His last thought was along the lines of, 'Wow what a way to end a birthday '.