*

The city fades, a distant light, The forest calls, its endless night. No whispers here, no pain to hide, Just quiet winds and peace inside.

*

The city lights flickered in the distance, dull and fading. They were just bright enough to remind me of the world I had left behind, the world that had never cared about me.

I had been running for so long, my body was starting to feel it. The ache in my leg had never quite gone away. It wasn’t just the limp; it was the constant exhaustion, the hunger that gnawed at my insides, the loneliness that clung to me like a second skin.

Eight years.

I was ten when I left home, or what was supposed to be home. The burns on my face, on my body had been the final push, the moment I couldn’t take it anymore. After the scalding water burned me, after I was left alone to heal, I ran. I never looked back.

I thought I would find something better out there. But the world was never kind to a runaway. People looked at me with disgust, like I was less than human. And I believed them. I learned quickly that nothing in this world was free. Not food. Not shelter. Not kindness. Every scrap I found was a battle won, but nothing ever lasted.

And then there was my leg.

The accident had changed everything. It was supposed to be a simple escape, running from some assholes who thought it was funny to chase a kid like me but it had turned into the worst thing that could’ve happened. Stuck on a fence I didn’t even have time to register a car speeding my way, and after that, it was never the same. The pain didn’t go away, not fully. Every step I took felt like a reminder that I was broken, that I would always be broken.

I had been scavenging through garbage bins for years. Eating whatever scraps I could find, whatever didn’t make me sick. Some nights, it was stale bread or leftover fast food; other nights, I went to sleep hungry, my stomach a hollow pit. I didn’t trust anyone enough to ask for help, and the idea of someone offering it to me was laughable. The world had made me believe that kindness wasn’t real, that people only took what they could get and gave nothing back.

I had stopped trusting the daylight a long time ago. The whispers, the sneers, the judgment, it was easier to face the night. At least then, no one could see me. No one could call me names or look at me like I was a freak. The darkness was my only friend.

But tonight, something felt different.

I had gotten to a point where I didn’t know if I could keep going. Every night felt the same walking the streets, scavenging, staying out of sight, hiding from the world. It was all just a blur of exhaustion and survival. I had thought about it, day after day, until it became clear: I couldn’t do this forever. I was tired.

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So tired.

The streets had nothing left to offer me. And I wasn’t sure how much longer I could keep moving, how much longer I could keep hiding. The weight of it all, the hunger, the pain, the loneliness. It was crushing me.

I had to get away.

That’s why I had decided. The forest was the only option.

It wasn’t far. Just on the edge of the town near the main city, barely visible through the shadows. The trees were thick, their branches hanging heavy in the cool night air. The forest was a place where I could disappear, where no one would bother me, where I could finally stop pretending to be okay.

I walked slowly, letting my leg rest with each step. The pain throbbed like a dull ache, a constant reminder of my brokenness. But I didn’t care anymore.

The town loomed ahead. It wasn’t much at night, just a few buildings and restaurant lights on, a handful of people going about their business, completely unaware of the boy who had been wandering their streets for years. The food was always the same discarded, stale, and cold. But it was enough to keep me going.

I moved quietly, my senses alert for any sounds, any movement. It wasn’t just the food I was after; it was the silence. The peace that came when I could disappear into the background, when I didn’t have to interact with anyone, didn’t have to explain why I was the way I was.

The air was thick with the scent of decay. A half-eaten sandwich lay in a discarded wrapper by the dumpster. I crouched down, my heart racing. The hunger inside me made everything feel like a victory, no matter how small. I grabbed the sandwich and shoved it into my mouth, barely tasting it as I chewed. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to dull the ache in my stomach.

But even as I ate, I felt a weight in my chest. I wasn’t sure what it was. Maybe it was the realization that I couldn’t keep doing this forever. That there was only so much I could take before I broke.

I had to find a place to rest. A place where I could finally stop moving. A place where I could be alone, away from the world.

The forest called to me.

I didn’t care if I died out there. I didn’t care if I was lost to the trees. It was better than going another day, another night, in the city. I was done. Done with the people. Done with the pain. Done with surviving.

The forest was waiting for me, and that was enough.

I didn’t need much. Just a place to sleep, a place to hide. I found a small clearing between the trees, the earth soft under my feet. The cold breeze cut through the night, but I welcomed it.

I had a few broken branches, some dry leaves, and a small matchbook in my pocket. That was all I needed. A small fire, enough to keep the chill away. I built it slowly, the flames flickering and dancing in the dark, casting long shadows over the forest floor.

I sat down, close enough to feel the warmth, but far enough to let the smoke rise without stinging my eyes. My back rested against a thick tree, and for the first time in as long as I could remember, I allowed myself to stop moving.

The fire crackled softly, and the world felt quiet. I stared into the flames, watching them twist and turn. They were alive, but they would die. Just like everything else.

The loneliness didn’t feel as sharp now. It was always there, like a constant hum in the background, but tonight, it felt... manageable. The silence was like an old friend.

I was done running. Done fighting. I had made my choice.

I didn’t care if I was still alive tomorrow. The forest would be my home. The fire would keep me warm, and the shadows would keep me safe.

And for now, that was enough.

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