The Life Of A Peasant Boy

• Andrew Horne, Grade 8
• Short Story
• 2022

I walked down road, my lips cracking from a lack of water, I was skinny and didn't get much food. I kept my head down as I approached the bakery, trying not to be noticed. My mouth watered as I sniffed the fresh bread smell. I saw a loaf cooling on the window, my perfect chance to take it. I quickly snatched the bread, and dashed down the dry road, the baker cursing and at me as I scurried of, ducking into a alley. catching my breath, taking small nibbles of my bread. The bread was warm and so delicate, so soft. It was the best food I'd tasted in months. I new stealing was wrong, but it was the only way to survive here. I was 12 years old living in a slum, in London, without a family or a home.

I slept under a road bridge that night. It was cold, and the only thing I had was a small blanket, my mother made me as a small child. I gripped the blanket, trying not to think of what happened to my parents, they were killed by gang violence. I was 5 then, and I've been on the streets since. I jerked awake as I heard someone digging through my things. It was a boy, about couple years older me, and he had my bread. We locked eyes for a second before he dashed away. I chased after him, cursing him, as he disappearing into a alley. I followed him, but he wasn't alone. There were 5 other boy there, knives drawn, guns loaded.


I tried to leave, knowing that is wasn't worth losing my life, but they stopped me. "Hey where do you think your going mate" he said. I struggled to break free of his grasp but he was to big and to strong. "Please let me go, I don't want no trouble. I never did anything to ya." I begged. "Its to late for that". he replied. They tossed me to the ground, I curled into a ball as they kicked me hard. I cried in agony. "Were going to beat you to death, just like we did your mum and dad." My heart skipped a beat. These were the guys who killed my parents. My heart filled with rage. All I wanted to do was kill every single one of them. A uncontrollable strength filled me. I burst up swinging punches everywhere, not caring what happened to me. Somehow I got my hands on a gun, threatening all of them.

My finger on the trigger, ready to shoot, but I couldn't. Even with all this rage coursing through my veins I still couldn't. Suddenly one of the boys jumped at me I panicked and fired. BANG, I ducked in confusion. Covering my head wondering what happened. It was until I looked down at the boy a, bullet hole in his head. I ran as fast as I could knowing that I could never return to London again.