This was what I wrote back in eighth grade, and I'm posting it out as a sort of remembrance. This story is rather short because I didn't get to finish it. It's a sort of dark tale of a city boy, Luther, befriending another scruffy-looking kid, Hurtle, in a forest, whom he insisted on calling "savage" due to his strong prejudice. As the story goes on, Luther would discover how Hurtle was actually his inner projection of his desire for freedom. There are many aspects of the story that I dislike now, like it's a bit too gloomy and deals with the theme of prejudice not as directly. But hey, I was in eighth grade, please don't be judgy :).