Just a simple shoe salesman

12

KICKS POV

I'm 12 now, still living the worst life, I've started polishing shoes I don't get much for it. The most I've gotten is 50 bells.

It's another rough night, strong winds.
I curled up in my little box-home. I cried, it kept me warm. I finally fell asleep. I woke up later on in the night to a gang kicking me repeatedly. This happened a lot but this time was different. There were more people, more pain.

Eventually they got bored. This wasn't good, no this was bad. Very bad, I cried more in pain. I didn't sleep anymore that night. After hours of lying there, morning came

I didn't move, just cried. Eventually I sat up and put my sign for shoe polishing up. I began daydreaming about a happy life, one with money and maybe even friends? That's my unrealistic dream. Having friends Is impossible for a street rat like me. Over the years I've forgotten who I am . Kicks i am kicks. What kind of a name is that? I cried. Life will never get better. Its always been like this.

I began to feel dizzy, unwell. The world span rapidly around me as I drifted out of consciousness.