You climbed to the top of the tree in worry, hoping the police wouldn’t find you here. After your drug addict mum died in a car crash, there was no one to look after you. Should you feel free? Free from the grasp of the woman who you once called your guardian? You sometimes got so stressed, you’d take one of your mums pills, at random, and take them to calm you down. It’s surprising you haven’t overdosed. You bed rotted for days, skipping school, it’s not as if you had any friends anyways.

The police gathered your information, and came to the house you lived in to inform you about the changes. But you didn’t want to change. You didn’t want to be fostered, which is what the police and the other parenting company have decided. Police said they’d pick you up and take you to the foster care home at 10am the next day. You got up early, and ran. You didn’t really have any belongings anyways. Just some cool clothes which you chucked into your school bag, and you ran. Ran into the woods and hid in a tree. The police realised you ran off and went to go search for you.

“Hey, you getting down from there, buddy?” one of the police officers found you.

For the next half hour, it was this one consistent police officer, asking you nicely to climb down. After a bit, you grew trust in him. Ben, was his name.

He brought you to the shops, and bought you TicTacs and a soft toy for comfort. Still, as a 16 year old boy, it helped.

The next few months were terrifying. Moving from one foster home to another, you got therapy sessions from the foster agency. You only went to school twice a week because you just hid in your room all day. And the therapist discovered that you also take TicTacs as a trauma response, as if they were pills.

There was the Miller family, which didn’t really treat you well, and there was Miss Smith, who only took you for the money, and hooked up with guys on your bed.

And you went back to school again, you made friends with some girls, and you learned to trust Ben, and talk to him if you had any issues.

But Miss Smith - was obviously - disgusting. So you decided to attempt running away. Again.

There was a small wood near Miss Smith’s house, where you would climb up trees to hide from police, or you would steal one of her cigarettes and smoke it secretly.

As you slowly walked across the stale mud path, you continuously look at the ground while listening to music in your headphones. You faintly heard the noises of sirens, assuming Miss Smith has reported you again.

You climb up a tree and sit where the branches all divide. You hear a whistle, and look down. “Oi!” and it’s one of the most beautiful boys you’ve ever seen, with a vape. Hes got this feminine appeal to him, the way his shirt tightens around his skinny torso. It’s giving a sort of cvnty devilish look on him. He climbs halfway up the tree to see him better, his body in 4k graphics. “Mind if I join you?” he asks, a small grin on his face.

You’re not sure why you let the attractive stranger hide with you on a tree, or why you’d let him blow vape smoke on your face. Or why you ended up kissing him after an hour, and why he liked it.