“Hey!” A hand grabs his sleeve and he jerks around in surprise. An old man is on the limb behind him! His balance teeters as he tries to get the man off of him. “What do you think you’re doing, eh, lad?” the man growls.

Tom squeals and looks desperately around for an escape. He looks down. “Don’t jump, boy,” says the old man, following Tom’s eyes. “Ye could git hurt.”

I’m already hurt! Tom looks back and forth in agony between the old man and the ground. He makes his choice. “No!” the man shouts and lunges for Tom’s arm again, but Tom is on the ground already.

Groaning, Tom pulls himself to his feet. His legs are numb but he manages to run. The old man is shouting after him. He doesn’t check to see if he’s being followed. He doesn’t care anymore. Nothing matters. Nothing but running away from here; away from everything.

The brisk wintry morning stings his face as he runs awkwardly, panting. Almost there…. His legs are on fire. His lungs are on fire. Can’t stop….not yet….