The icy water consumes me and I swim with the current, which goes under the bridge. I don't rise to breathe just yet, because the Waymen would see me. Instead I bite my lip and keep going. The cold water lashes at my wound and I wince. I must be many yards away now, so I swim up. I take in the smelly air of Newra and hover in the water. I splash over to the riverbank and pull myself up out of the water. I'm shivering, so I clutch my arms.
After a few freezing minutes of silence, I stand up and jog back into town. I have to go back to the little alley corner that I call home. Well, called home. I have to retrieve what little items I own, but then I need to immediately leave.
I repeat in my head the way to get there, but I know it by heart. Turn left at the run-down stoplight, right again at the music shop, left at the dilapidated ice cream parlor and straight until the Newra outskirts. The second-to-last alleyway. I look left and right to make sure I'm not being followed and go into the tight space.
I set my little box upright and pile my things into it. My dim solar-powered flashlight, my small collection of glass shards, my few dollar bills, and the dirty glass frame of my family. I hesitate, thinking that it would be useless to carry it with me, but put it in the box anyways. I fold the sides in and put on my thin leather jacket. I slip the box between my shirt and jacket, shove my hands in my pockets, and head back to busy Main Street.
Before I leave this useless town, I go to the store and buy a cheap backpack with all the money I have left. Then, when I'm out of sight, I slip the box into it and walk towards the freeway.