I was struggling, there was no doubt about it. My clothes were dirty, ripped and grass-stained, bags under my eyes and my muscles aching from constantly running and hiding from those who refused to take me in or even attempt to understand. After being pushed into the corner of crime by the so-called 'good' royal family I had to steal to survive. What I stole I sold on the black market, not the safest place for someone like me. Often I would have to give away what I have just to be allowed to live.
