Waking up to the cool air on my face had become customary over the last 365 days.

Stretching to try and get rid of the aches in my back after a night on the pavement, I looked around at the familiar setting - the tree, the brick wall, the door the led into the back of a convenience store.

Curling up into the foetal position and pulling the blankets over my head, I tried to hide myself from the world as I remembered that today was exactly one year since I had run away from home.

My name is Patrick, I'm 16-years-old, and I live on the streets.

The End

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