Fugitives
Chapter One: Nineteen and Life:
My name is Phillip Evans and I am going to prison.
I grew up in a rough neighborhood. I don’t really remember my parents really being around in my life. My mom died and my dad drank and lay in bed all day collecting welfare checks. As a result, I ran away from home. That old drunk probably didn’t even notice that I was gone.
I ended up living in a run-down apartment with a bunch of other kids. The roof leaked when it rained, the building was hot during the summer, and cold during the winter. The dust and broken windows and locks didn’t help us much either. Still, we all made that old apartment our home. A few of the other guys and I acted like big brothers to the little kids that end up getting dumped on us. In fact, we lived by a system that kept us all together as a family. Nobody over twenty-one could live with us. The older guys had to take care of the children. Plus, no babies cold stay with us either. We all struggled to get by. Most of the girls worked odd jobs to help buy food. When they didn’t make enough, the other of us… well… turned to crime as a means to survive. Some of us stole what we needed while others got too greedy. I was the former and that’s probably why I ended up going to prison. That night ended up like this:
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