A month later and we were still with the Serbian. We had a stockpile of Serbian notes, our chests were filling out again, and our hands had grown calloused from digging posts, milking cows, and putting in a massive vegetable garden. 

I was enjoying myself – I’d begun to learn Serbian, I got to spend solid time just being with Ayamin rather than surviving with her, and the farm work suited me. My ribs were healing and I felt strong and well. 

But Ayamin had feet that itched for the road, and eyes that longed for England. I could see it in the way she gazed off into the horizon, or the way she went quiet when Grandma talked about settling down.

It was on a clear night while sitting under the canopy of an ancient tree that she told me she couldn’t take farm life anymore.

‘I want an education Danny, and I want to build a life in England.’

I just nodded. I didn’t have to say I’d follow her, she already knew that ‘I’ll miss Mahdi and the kids,’ I said, ‘and Grandma – she’ll miss you too you know.’

‘But they’re building a life for themselves,’ she said, ‘we need to do the same.’

I looked up at the stars and suddenly I was hit by a feeling – it was close to loneliness. All this talk of building lives made me think about my lack of future. 

When I got to England, I’d be in a bit of a pickle – I’d have to make a false identity or go to jail neither of which would be practical for whatever comes next with Ayamin. 

I reached out for her hand. It was warm, but the warmth didn’t seem to make a difference. I considered telling her about it all – the real reason I’d gone to Turkey. About court, and prison, and breaking into the stores. It would have to happen at some stage, and under that night sky would’ve been perfect.

But I shrugged it off – told myself to worry about it later, just focus on the moment because I was enjoying the moment. I stared up at the sky then reached out to run my hand along Ayamin’s leg. 

She broke her intense meditative stare-off with the sky and smiled with a mischievous sideways glance. 

She rolled over until her face was inches from mine. Her breath tickled my neck as she whispered, 

‘Feeling playful?’

My body stiffened but my hands knew what they wanted, they reached for her hips and pulled her on top of me. I kissed her and it lasted a long hot minute before she reached under my shirt and traced her nail along my sides. There were lights in her eyes. 

That was… a good night. 

****

In the morning I was woken by a distant sobbing. It sounded old and heartbroken. It was Grandma.

I slipped out from beside Ayamin and ran to the barn. Inside, the family was sitting around Grandpa, who lay back in the hay the same way he’d slept the night before – only now his face was blue and his chest had stopped moving. When I touched his hand it was stone cold.

With the help of the farmer, we moved him to a small patch of grass under an old oak tree and placed him in the soft earth beneath it. For the first time since I’d met her, Grandma didn’t look strong or in control, her hand trembled in mine. 

Much later as the sun was setting, I looked out from the barn to see her lone silhouette shivering in front of the tree. 

 

It was two weeks later that Ayamin and I finally decided to leave the camp. Hugging the family as we left was too much for us. First I started to cry, and then Ayamin couldn’t help herself. Opposite me, Mahdi wiped at tears of his own.

‘Danny brother,’ he said, ‘This is not goodbye – you make sure you come back. I think Mister Farmer would be very happy if you brought a shovel too.’

We both laughed, and I hugged him again. 

They’d decided to stay, the work was okay and ‘Mister Farmer’ had arranged for the kids to be enrolled in a school. 

Grandma was the last one waiting to say goodbye to us. She’d become thin since Grandpa had left, but some of her spirit was beginning to return. 

As we stepped away from the hug Grandma held us with her arms. She placed a hand on each of our foreheads and began to sing a prayer in Arabic. I couldn’t catch the words but the sound was happy-sad. 

When she stepped away, she stared at us with her big brown eyes.

‘This means you are family. You will always have people to call home.’

I opened my mouth to say something in return. But the words wouldn’t come. Instead, I wrapped my arms around the woman once more and hugged her until I was sure she’d never fade from me. 

Then I pulled the pack onto my back and took Ayamin’s hand. 

‘Goodbye family.’ Grandma said. 

‘Goodbye family,’ Ayamin and I repeated.

And we began to walk down the dirt track to the farm gate. 

****

It was a strange feeling only being the two of us. Our footsteps on the metal road sounded hollow compared to how they’d sounded as a group. 

We took the wrong turn initially and ended up in a village slightly south of the farm. By the time we’d retraced our footsteps darkness was falling. We walked a little further, then found a strand of scraggly trees to disappear under. 

Ayamin brushed the Winnie the Pooh tent as we unpacked him. There were fade marks from where he’d been folded. 

‘At least you’ll be happy Mr Winnie,’ she said, ‘It’s been a while since you’ve seen the moonlight.’ 

That night I was woken by every rustle, cough, or vehicle that came by us. The ground underneath me was hard and lumpy compared to the sweet-smelling hay we’d been sleeping on.

I rolled over onto my side for the millionth time, trying to find a comfortable spot, ‘Life on the road,’ I whispered to myself, ‘Isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.’

‘You’re awake too?’ whispered Ayamin from next to me. 

‘Just sleep talking,’ I moaned, ‘How could anyone be awake after sleeping on this plush soft ground.’

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her smile. 

‘Well, I’m glad you’re enjoying it. I was going to cuddle, but if you’re sleeping, I won’t disturb you.’

‘Are you sure?’

She laughed, ‘No, I’d hate to wake you.’

I was silent for a moment, then let out a loud yawn and stretched out my arms, ‘Ahhh… that was such a good sleep.’

‘So, you’re awake now?’ 

‘Yep, and what a refreshing sleep that was.’ 

She giggled and rolled over to my side of the mattress.

I wish I could remember the number of days it took us to pass through Serbia, but I can’t. The setting up and taking down of Winnie the Pooh blended into one another and after a while each mile felt the same for our tired feet.

That is until we reached the fence.

****

At first glance, Hungary looked like a hedgehog. We arrived just before dawn and the part of Hungary’s border we’d stumbled upon was protected by a high-tech security fence with wire and antennas and cameras dotted along it like spikes. Speakers shouted warnings at us in at least five languages, including English and Arabic.

‘East or West?’ I asked Ayamin. 

She glanced both ways along the fence, ‘Let's go West.’

So we turned and started walking along the fence, glancing at the solid wire mesh, trying to find a way through.

After half a mile we spotted an old Hungarian man crouched on his side of the fence with a pair of gardening shears. He was whistling to himself as he cut the wires. When he saw us he gave a wave.

‘Hello there,’ he said in heavily accented Arabic.

We were both too confused to speak. I wondered if we were so exhausted that we were seeing visions. But… the old man remained.

He’d cut two wires and bent them back to create a small hole. The man had been lining up a third wire when he’d spotted us. 

He waved for us to come over. Ayamin and I glanced at each other and… limped over to where he crouched.

‘The trouble is,’ he explained, ‘They keep using thicker and thicker wire. Soon it’ll be so thick I’ll need a hacksaw,’ he shuddered, ‘Those things aren’t cheap if you’re unemployed.’

He placed the shears either side of the wire and squeezed down on them, twisting slightly as he went. He was bundled up in a worn winter jacket and a woollen hat. The effort of cutting the wire made him sweat. 

‘Do you want help?’ I asked, reaching for the shears.

‘No!’ He pulled them away. Ayamin and I froze. The man wiped at his forehead, ‘If they catch you, you will be thrown in the prison.’

He watched us until he was sure I wouldn’t try to take the shears, then he went back to cutting the wire. The shears wiggled back and forth.

‘What about you?’ I asked, ‘Won’t you go to jail?’

 ‘They wouldn’t dare,’ he said, beginning to sweat again, ‘I’m the king you see.’

‘Of Hungary?’ Ayamin asked.

The man gave one last twist and the wire snapped. He nodded to Ayamin, ‘I am the king of Hungary, welcome to my country,’ he bent the cut wires back towards him then gestured for us to climb through.

Ayamin looked at me, should we? she mouthed. 

I glanced from her to the maniac-king on the other side of the fence. He was drinking something alcoholic from a flask, there was dirt on his hands and knees from kneeling to cut the wire. I looked back at Ayamin and shrugged. 

She climbed through the hole and I followed. 

As we stood brushing the dust off our knees the King of Hungary started to walk off towards the sunrise, carrying his garden shears like a sword, and wearing his holey woollen hat like a crown.

‘Hey,’ I called.

The man stopped and turned.

‘Thank you.’

A little smile appeared on his lips, ‘Just doing my job.’

I reached into the bag for the final two apples we’d taken from a tree in Serbia as the king disappeared from view.

I passed the bigger apple to Ayamin, ‘This’ll be our last meal for a while.’

She nodded to me, took a bite, winced, then rubbed her eyes and started walking north, away from the border. I followed her, taking a bite of my apple. 

It was mushy and not very sweet but I forced it down, seeds and all.

After an hour’s walk, we met a road that linked with a major highway. The sun was well up by now and as it bounced off the clouds, cast a golden-grey reflection over the land. 

****

I woke far too early on our second day in Hungary. The stomach pain I thought I’d escaped the night before returned with a vengeance. I lay awake for a few hours before Ayamin started to toss and turn. 

The tent felt too hot and sticky, she rolled over to me. 

‘Are you asleep Danny?’ 

‘No. I’m starving.’

‘Stop thinking about it then. It makes things worse.’

I tried to stop thinking about it… I tried to focus on how my arms felt, on the sounds of birds rustling about, on Ayamin’s breath as it brushed my face. But then my stomach gave a big rumble and the gnawing hunger returned.  

‘Ayamin are you hungry?’

‘Yes.’

‘Stop thinking about it… Just think about this beautiful country that we’re in.’

‘Danny, we’re in Hungary.’

‘Exactly,’ I laughed, before clutching my stomach again, ‘We are hungry in Hungary.’

Ayamin shook her head, but she laughed, she laughed a good long while, ‘You are so lame…’

‘I know… but it did take your mind off your stomach didn’t it?’

‘I guess.’

There was a moment of silence before Ayamin turned to me.

‘Danny, I’m hungry in Hungary.’

We cracked up laughing. We kept laughing until I felt tears in my eyes and my jaw was getting sore. I tried to breathe, but then I looked at Ayamin and I started all over again. 

It felt good.

Eventually, we crawled out of the tent and lay on the grass looking at the sky.

‘We’ve come a long way,’ Ayamin said, ‘I think maybe we should rest when we get to Budapest.’

‘And eat,’ I said, pulling up my shirt to expose my lean ribs, ‘And eat and eat and eat until we’re so fat we’ll have to roll to England.’

Ayamin laughed, ‘Actually, you’re pretty fit Danny,’ she ran her hand across my stomach, ‘Mr six-pack.’ 

‘I’d trade my six-pack for fish and chips,’ I said, closing my eyes, and rubbing her hand where it sat on my stomach, ‘Salt, a crunchy batter, white fish, steaming fries, and a squeeze of lemon. God, there’s nothing more beautiful in this world,’ I paused for a moment, then opened one eye and glanced at Ayamin, ‘Well… except you of course.’

Ayamin clutched at her heart, ‘Did you really just call me more beautiful than fish and chips?’

I laughed, ‘And I meant every word of it.’

She shook her head in wonder, ‘Danny, you really know what to say to a girl.’

****

That day we walked on empty stomachs. I was light-headed, and when the meagre sun came out from behind a bank of cheeseburger-shaped-clouds, I thought I’d pass out. Imagine a hangover, but there’s no food in the fridge.

We passed several towns, but most of them were too small – or the locals too hostile for us to try scavenge for something. 

Every few steps my right foot would start to drag on the ground. At nightfall, I turned to Ayamin. 

‘I know I’m not going to sleep like this.’

‘Me either,’ she said.

‘I was thinking we should just keep walking into the night.’

She yawned… and looked down at her feet. 

‘Yeah, why not.’

The two of us plodded on until the moon was high in the sky and we were getting wobbly on our feet. Then we stumbled off the road into a small area of woodland and slept under an old elm tree.

We woke feeling sick and hungry at the same time. I was having visions of all the food I’d ever wasted including a cheese toastie that I’d let drop on the floor.

The memory of that cheese toastie had a real impact on my muddled mind. As we got up to leave, I felt tears roll down my cheeks. 

‘What’s wrong?’ Ayamin asked. 

‘You wouldn’t understand…’ I said as I tried to squeeze the tears out.

‘Oh Danny,’ she wrapped her arms around me, hugged me and rubbed circles on my back, ‘Tell me what’s wrong.’

‘It’s stupid.’ 

‘No, come on.’

I sniffed, ‘Okay so back in England this one time *sniff* I’d made the best cheese toastie you’ve ever seen, cheese heaped all over it, this beautiful pickle, ham. *sniff* My god it was to die for, and then it drops off my plate and falls onto the dirt,’ I clung to Ayamin, weeping into her shoulder, ‘I threw it away. God, what an idiot.’

Ayamin laughed, then clutched her stomach, ‘I was thinking about Teete’s spicy chicken and chickpea.’

We hugged tight, then clutched our stomachs and talked about food as we shuffled our way along.

Reminiscing about food probably wasn’t the best idea, but by that point, our self-control was too weak for anything else.

We found a small stream and drank as much water as we could. But water is like air. It can’t fill your stomach. It sort of just sloshed around inside of us.

On that third day, and nearly fainting with hunger, the two of us stumbled into first the suburbs and then the heart of Budapest.

And that’s where we stopped.

****

Morning. The sun crawled through the streets searching for us, maybe hoping to give us some courage. It wouldn’t have found us. Ayamin and I lay curled under a bridge, our blanket tossed over us.

Ayamin had shivered all night, even with our bodies pressed together. It wasn’t until dawn approached that I realised I was shivering too. When she looked at me in the morning her eyes were rings of black.

‘You look like a panda,’ she told me.

The two of us crawled from under our bridge and began walking the streets. Movement and the sun helped to warm us. We passed by coffee shops and breakfast places, holding our stomachs as we forced ourselves to keep moving. Food was plentiful, but not for us. 

We stopped outside a McDonalds and I spotted two nearly full rubbish bins. I nodded to Aya, ‘I’ll get us something.’

I checked both ways for some sort of police officer, then bent next to the bin and began pulling out half-eaten hash browns, chips, and striking gold, even a happy meal with some apple slices and chicken nuggets.

I carried our feast back to Ayamin. We walked to the stone steps of a church, a little way away from the McDonalds and sat down with it.

She stared at the half-eaten cheeseburger and slightly old fries. It shows just how hungry she was when she began to tear into the cheeseburger. 

Parts of the happy meal were still warm and we ate the apple pieces for ‘dessert’. When the food had finished, I went back for more. We repeated the process three times. As I was going for a fourth Ayamin stopped me. 

‘We’re gonna be sick.’

With a full stomach, I found that I could think once more. And I felt so damn happy. Like I was floating on a cloud of bliss.

I gazed around, eyeing up landmarks and trying to figure out our next move. Ayamin took my hand.

‘Hey, we’re in Budapest…’ she said, ‘People dream of coming here. Let’s pretend just for a bit like we’re on holiday.’

So we did. We sat there and we watched Budapest come to life in the morning sun. Chains of kids and parents passed by on their way to school. People in suits passed men who stood outside their shops smoking. A group of fruit and vegetable sellers set up shop near us and were soon enveloped by hordes of restaurateurs and couples. 

 

After watching a while, we decided to tour the city. We followed the promenade along the edge of the Danube River. As we walked, I spotted a brown, wide-brimmed hat with a feather in it leaning against a rubbish bin. I put the feathered hat on and held out my arm to Ayamin. She slipped hers through mine and soon we were touring the city like a royal couple.

‘We should come back and visit these places someday,’ I said, ‘I’ll get a job when we’re back in England, save money so that we can go on fancy cruises and eat whenever we want.’

She smiled. Below us, small waves lapped the shore as a tour boat passed by. We stood there, just watching it.

Most of the people on board wore white. I saw old people with cameras, middle-aged businesspeople reading books, and a girl and a guy about our age lying on lounge chairs scrolling through their phones. 

Something about the couple made me keep staring at them. They were arguing… she flipped him the middle finger, his face was going red. He stood up, moved to her chair and grabbed her shoulders.

For a moment both their faces were turned towards us. Their clean faces with furrowed brows and snarling lips, and then the boat turned and they were gone. 

I looked over at Ayamin. She was still watching the boat. I lifted my thumb to the side of her face and traced a thin line in the layer of dust that coated it. 

She turned to me, ‘I’m a pretty simple girl Danny, if we ever come back, let’s take a van… you know just put a mattress in the back to sleep on.’

The two of us found a public garden, lay down and slept on the grass for a few hours under the warm sun. After that, we had an early dinner at one of the finest restaurants on the left side of the Danube river. 

By that I mean Ayamin kept watch while I jumped into the restaurant’s large garbage bin and pulled out anything that looked fresh. 

I ended up smelling rather rotten, but hey, for once I was earning my keep. 

We had salmon, a fancy Greek salad, and even a mouth-watering steak! 

After dinner, we swam in the Danube and sunbathed in the sun’s dying light. As orange and purple hues filled the sky we returned to our five-star accommodation under one of Budapest’s many bridges. 

‘Hey Danny,’ Ayamin said, her hair tumbled over my chest as she rested, and her eyes were reflecting the dying sun, ‘This is bliss.’

Slowly I ran my hand through her hair, ‘But you’re sleeping under a bridge, ate food from the garbage, and had to bathe in a slightly polluted river… Are you out of your mind??’

She laughed, then dragged her hand across my chest, I wrapped my arms around her.

‘Us meeting must’ve been fate,’ she said, running her thumb across my cheek, ‘If you didn’t have your Red Cross mission or I’d left the camp earlier, none of this would’ve happened.’

I nodded, ‘It’s crazy that the greatest moments of your life appear out of nowhere. You can’t pick them looking forwards, only looking back.’

Ayamin kissed my lips. We had full bellies, it was a starry sky. We were poor, refugees, but in that moment, everything felt just right.

****

We woke. It had been raining and the two of us huddled together under the bridge. Ayamin shivered as she tried to nestle in closer to me.

We watched the sun attempt to break through the rain clouds. The fight lasted maybe half an hour but eventually, the rain clouds had it swamped. It was going to be a grey day. 

Putting our blanket in the bag, and snacking on a little bread from the night before, we began to move. Autumn was quickly turning into winter, and I watched Ayamin as she rubbed her feet before putting them into her boots. We wouldn’t survive well in a winter here. 

‘We should look at moving,’ Ayamin said as we walked through town. The buildings appeared greyer than the day before, and people were bundled up in coats of black and grey.

Ayamin was wearing our yellow jacket, I wore a red sweatshirt I’d found and it was almost as if we were the only objects of colour in the city.  

‘Do you think someone here would let me work for them?’ I thought aloud, looking at signs in shop windows.

She shrugged, ‘I read an article once about refugees who work for days, then when they come for their pay the boss just calls the cops.’

‘So what do we do?’ I asked, ‘Beg?’ 

‘Maybe? I’m sure we’d fit in.’

I rubbed the side of my head, three people were begging in the alleyway in front of us and they were all wearing nicer clothes than ours.

‘Let’s do it,’ I said with a shrug… ‘Doesn’t look like we have too many other options.’

For breakfast, we ate some half-eaten food we’d found outside a restaurant. Then the two of us found ourselves a wide alleyway with plenty of people passing through. There was only one other beggar in sight – a tanned, wrinkled old man leaning against a guitar. We figured we weren’t stepping in anyone’s territory.

As we sat, I looked at Ayamin. I’d heard of some people dressing rough to get more money, but Ayamin didn’t need to do that. 

Her jacket and pants, stained and torn in various places hung from her body. Her face had a sleek angular look that would’ve made a few of the girls back home in England pretty jealous, but Ayamin’s look also had a hardness to it.

‘What are you staring at?’ she said.

‘A skinny street rat.’ 

She laughed, ‘Come on, let’s just give begging a go, we only need enough for a bus to the border.’

A businessman was walking towards us, the phone in his hands would’ve been worth enough to get us to England. We held out our hands, trying to look as sorry as we could. 

He passed by without a glance, the clip of his shoes slowly receded down the stones of the alleyway towards the man with the guitar. I looked at Ayamin, she just shrugged and held her hands out as a group moved down the alley. 

By midday, we had the equivalent of one British pound and Ayamin decided it was time for a lunch break. 

‘At this rate, we’re going to be here a month just to get to the border,’ I said as we dug into some half-eaten pastries.

Ayamin shook her head, ‘I could go for a hotel room and a hot shower right about now.’ 

We spent the rest of the day at ‘work’ holding our hands out and hoping someone would be generous enough to drop something into them. The whole time we were there, the guitar man lying just down from us didn’t play his guitar once, he sort of had it leaned up against him as he slouched, probably drunk, against the wall behind him.

When the streetlights came on we made our way back to the bridge we’d been sleeping under. I counted the coins and notes with a faint click. It was less than two pounds worth. As our footsteps knocked on the concrete we heard voices coming from the bridge. Moving a little closer we saw a group of four young guys dressed in rags similar to ours gathered around a candle. They were heating a broken lightbulb with sticky black heroin inside of it. One of them primed a vein on his arm, while another drew the molten liquid into a long syringe. 

‘Let’s go,’ Ayamin whispered, taking my hand. 

We moved away from the bridge, and I held her hand a little tighter. Ayamin might have torn clothes and unwashed hair, but in my opinion, she was still way too pretty to spend a night out in the open. 

The streetlights came on, giving us light, but doing nothing to help us find a place to stay. Ayamin squeezed my hand as she walked. 

‘It’s okay Danny,’ she said, ‘It’s okay.’

‘I know, but it’s dangerous for both of us.’

Ayamin stopped as we heard a drunken Hungarian shout from behind us. 

‘Keep walking,’ I whispered. Ayamin stared straight ahead as we picked up our speed a little. The shout came again, almost bearlike. Ayamin’s breathing came loud as the drunk ran towards us. 

‘Oiiii,’ the man yelled from no more than two meters behind us. I turned; it was instinct. You never leave your back unprotected. 

We were faced by a large man with a small moustache. I stepped forward and put my arm around Ayamin, the man’s gaze swept her tattered clothes.

His eyes shifted from her to me. I gazed around for a cop or some sort of saviour. There was no one. 

The man grinned at me but it was all teeth. I raised my hands and balled them into fists. I’d met assholes like this in England. If you gave them an inch, they’d walk right over you. I just wished I had a steel pole or something to make it a little more even. 

Drunken dude grinned; it was probably a two for one deal for him. He’d get to fight, then carry away the refugee girl. He held up his fists, I spotted a broken nose between them. He must’ve been some sort of a boxer. 

The man spat something in Hungarian then moved towards me, meaty ham-fists raised. I wasn’t going to fight properly with Ayamin on the line so I brought my foot up in a quick arc that ended in his balls. 

Drunk dude let out a groan and I stepped closer, poking him in the eyes twice, then punching him in the nose. 

His big ham-fist swung out and caught me on the side of my head, I heard Aya scream and another fist hit my chest, the air rushed out of my lungs and I bent in half. 

A brick hit the man’s shoulder and I caught a glimpse of Ayamin about to hurl a bottle. My chest wheezed as I hit the man in the nose again. 

But his skull must’ve been too thick for the pain to have an effect. He grabbed me by the shirt as I hit him over and over again. His large fist twisted and dumped me to the ground. I felt my mind go black for a moment, then a dizzy sensation swept through me as I watched the man walk towards Ayamin. I struggled to my feet, vomit forming in my throat. Ayamin was yelling something in Arabic, the man didn’t seem to care. 

Then there was another voice. A dry, calm voice that spoke two words in Hungarian. The big thug slowed to a standstill, then turned. Silhouetted in the streetlights was an older man dressed in rags with weather-beaten skin wrinkled by age. 

The drunk man shouted at him, then spat in his direction. The old guy didn’t move. He didn’t sway. He just stood there staring, like a marble statue. 

The big Hungarian waved his arms and turned back towards Ayamin. Bending down the old guy picked up the brick Aya had thrown. He said a sentence in Hungarian, his tone calm and commanding. The drunk man froze. His face reared into a hideous snarl, then he turned and limped off. 

The old man waited until the drunk man had disappeared around a corner before he dropped the brick. The moment it hit the ground, time seemed to unfreeze, and my head began to throb again. Ayamin let out a sob and I felt her hands on me, trying to help me to my feet.

The man who’d saved us just turned and walked away.

‘It’s okay, it’s okay,’ Ayamin said as she lifted me. A slight breeze was passing us by and it made me stagger like I was the drunk.

Ayamin held my head between her hands, ‘How do you feel Danny?’ she said, ‘How many fingers am I holding up?’

I blinked, then tried to focus, behind her the man who’d saved us was watching, Ayamin waved her fingers in front of me, ‘Two,’ I said, ‘You’re holding two.’

She kissed my forehead. ‘You were so brave Danny.’ 

I coughed, my head felt like cracked eggshells, ‘Actually, the brave one is standing just over there.’

With our eyes on him, the old man who’d saved us shouted something in Hungarian and waved his hands like he wanted to get rid of us. He picked up a guitar that was leaning up against a wall and strode over to the alleyway we’d been begging in earlier. 

Ayamin and I didn’t move. I was having trouble making a plan. I knew we couldn’t go back to our bridge, but my ideas kept disappearing into the murky soup that had become my mind. 

I felt Aya’s hand rubbing my back, ‘It’s okay,’ she said, ‘There, there,’ she helped me to stumble forward and I felt my head begin to clear a little.

On the other side of the street, people laughed and stumbled as they left a club. I remember seeing a woman looking in our direction, but no one came over to us. As we stumbled past the alleyway, I heard the old man’s rumbly voice. 

He stood there shaking his head like he was sorry we existed, he let out a sigh and waved his hand for us to follow him.

I looked to Ayamin to make a decision, I felt we could trust him, but then again, my head was scrambled.

Ayamin nodded with her big brown eyes and the two of us limped into the alleyway after him.