<a class="postlink" href="http://i833.photobucket.com/albums/zz260/TimeKeys/maduperhot-1.jpg">[ img ]</a><br/>Jake Morusin<br/>20<br/><br/>A young man is on the run from a man whoâ€™s treated him like a slave. Ever since his mother died at his hand, something he was never able to prove yet he knew it to be true. Heâ€™d worn a big overcoat. Hiding his face in the shadows of big floppy hat. His body skinny yet toned from all the manual labor heâ€™d been forced to do since heâ€™d been maybe five years old. He was getting tired. The man was an abuser, a liarâ€¦and worseâ€¦he was a killer.<br/><br/>The young man runs til he reaches a port. Quickly scanning the area to find someplace to hide so he could rest. He just needed a few minutes. Nothing more. Just enough rest to get him some energy to keep on running. Til heâ€™d be able to run no more. He spots a bunch of crates near a ship. They were just In the shadow of it. And a few were open and the lids to them had not been put on.<br/><br/>He runs over quickly. Climbing into one full of different types of materials. Laying down in a ball. His coat matching another piece of material. His form thin enough by now that it barely even showed. He fell into a deep sleep. What had been intended to be a few minutes turned into an hour. During which time the crate was sealedâ€¦though it was the kind that had those rectangular tiny openings. So he was still able to breath. The crates had then been loaded onto a ship. As the man continued his sleeping undisturbed by anyoneâ€¦as only the captian of that ship was allowed to inspect the cargo.