This is the fists chapter in the book I’m making I had learned to take risks early on in my life, so I didn’t even think twice about stealing a warm meat pie from a regents window sill where it was cooling down, presumably for a banquet. I was long past hungry. So if I didn’t eat, my life was in danger anyway Not Immediate danger. Mrs. Apple Blossom always had poor man’s bread back at the orphanage for us boys, and indeed, they would probably be eating soon But I couldn’t stand the thought of gnawing on those hard brick crusts for yet another meal, especially with the delicious meat pie so close Getting it would be simple Well, not simple in the traditional meaning of the word, but simple meaning. I would get it if it was the last thing I ever did. It required me to climb up a thick oak tree without drawing any attention to myself, then shimmy my way across a particularly thin limb of the tree to get onto the other side of the wall that sounded the property while trying to stay out of view of the gatekeepers that patroled the main entrance of the property. But I was determined Once I reached the ground safely, I got down low and crept slowly toward the window sill. Every crunch of a dry leaf and snap of a fallen twig sounded like thunder to me until I was directly under the window. With a deep breath and a quick peek to ensure no one was looking, I quickly reached up, snatched the meat pie, and stuffed it into my father’s satchel. Then it hit me. Just to be sure, I peeked again. And to my delight, No one was in the kitchen! So I took the chance. They wouldn’t notice if a little bit more than just a meat pie went missing. I seized the opportunity. I slid myself through the window of the kitchen. The kitchen wasn’t very oversized, but it was pretty big for a kitchen, implying that the regent who lived here liked his food. Then, the threatening sound of footsteps ended my train of thought. I frantically looked for a place to hide, but there was nowhere other than some empty crates that probably, at one point, held food, but that was on the opposite side of the kitchen. I wouldn’t be able to make it in time. So I made the only decision I could. Stand here, wait to see who was coming, and hope whoever came wouldn’t turn me in. A little that looked only about the age of ten or eleven, she had glossy blond hair and big blue eyes that were now filled with worry at the sight of an orphan boy in the kitchen, but so far, she stayed quiet. That was promising, but then “What is it, Uni?” another girl’s voice. The girl who stepped in had dark brown hair and captivating tea-coloured eyes. She looked to be about my age. I took one step back, then another. “No, wait!” the little girl cried. “I’ll get something for you.” before I could answer, she was in the pantry. I wasn’t worried about her (Continue in notes and credits)
anymore. She couldn’t tell anyone I was here if she was in the pantry. So, I shifted my attention to the older girl. “What is your name?” She responded,” That is not necessary right now. Inwardly, I admired her qualities. “Well, I’m Thorn.” Right then, the little girl came back. “Here, this is for you,” she said, handing me a loaf of bread. “No, I can’t accept this. It’s too much,” I say, trying to return it. “I can here to steal. I can’t accept this,” the older girl looked me straight in the eye. “Take the bread and get out safely. If you wanted to know how to thank us, that is how you do it.” I nodded. “Thank you,” I muttered and slipped out the window. I examined my soundings from the cover of the window sill. I was in a reasonably large property. The main structure was a huge stone building with many windows, which was unlucky for me. More places to be spotted. A casual look out the window could put me in jeopardy, and a small stream was flowing under the wall. The night was falling now, and the gatekeepers were filling in their replacements with the day’s events. I saw my chance and took it. I swiftly ran, keeping low to the ground for better chances of not being spotted. Once I made it past the gate, I started to run as fast as I could from that place. With my heart threatening to burst out of my chest, I finally slowed down. I could barely see now, with the moon shielded by shadowy clouds I stumbled forward blindly. Hopefully, I was headed toward Mrs. Apple Blossom’s orphanage. I didn’t like nights like these, blinded helplessness. They reminded me of my history and how I became an orphan. I sighed. I didn’t want to think about it, but I couldn’t help it. The memory was vivid me, and my mother had a fight. There was something about her never playing with me anymore. We were yelling at each other. Eventually, my mother told me to leave and not return until I learned to be thankful. “Fine,” I said, “but don’t ever expect to see me again,” my father tried to stop my mother, but nothing could change her mind, so he gave me his sachel and told me to find a better life. And that night, I became Thorn, the orphan and disappointment to my family. My eyes were dangerously full of tears. I just blinked them away. “I am Thorn. I don’t cry,” I told myself. “I am strong. I don’t cry over the loss of family.” I was a block away from the orphanage now. I crouched down and wolfed down the meat pie and saved the bread for later. With a deep sigh, I walked
