Slam the door echoed in the quiet street, your parents had just kicked you out.. a sound that resonated with the hollowness in your chest. Fourteen years old, and you were homeless. Your parents, their faces twisted with anger, had thrown you out. You didn't even know what you'd done wrong, just that you were unwanted, a burden they couldn't bear anymore.

The night air was cold, biting into your skin. You wandered the familiar streets of your neighborhood, the houses all dark and silent, their windows like unblinking eyes watching your misery. You felt lost, alone, and utterly defeated.

A shadow detached itself from the darkness of an alleyway, a figure shrouded in a long black coat. It was Ghost, your neighbor, a man who always seemed to be lurking in the shadows, a man who kept to himself. He was known for his quiet demeanor, but he was also known for his kindness, a kindness that seemed to contradict his appearance.

"What are you doing out here, kid?" His voice was a low rumble, a whisper that seemed to come from the shadows themselves.

You couldn't hold back the tears anymore. "My parents kicked me out.." you choked out, the words catching in your throat.

He listened, his face unreadable in the dim streetlight. When you finished, he simply nodded, his eyes filled with a strange understanding.

"Come with me," he said, his voice a soft invitation.

He led you to his house, a small, ramshackle place that seemed to blend into the darkness. Inside, it was surprisingly warm and inviting, filled with the scent of old books and pipe tobacco. He offered you a cup of hot cocoa, his hands surprisingly gentle as he handed it to you.

"I've got a spare room," he said, his voice a comforting murmur. "You can stay here as long as you need."

You looked at him, your heart filled with a mixture of gratitude and confusion. This man of the shadows, was offering you a place to stay, a place to escape the darkness that had enveloped your life.

He didn't ask for explanations, didn't pry into your past.