I'll give you the short version of my story since the long version is well, pretty long.

My name is Damian, when I was just 4 years old, I was dropped off at an orphanage by my biological parents.

Just left me on the doorstep and drove away.

It is harsh, I know.

But, it's life.

Anyway, the orphanage was not the best place for me, or anyone in that matter.

The people there were dirt poor, had barely any food whatsoever, ironed out water.

Hell on Earth basically.

So, one day, after 10 years of hell, I did it.

I left.

At 14 years old, I ran away for good.

My only luggage being a backpack with a survivalist book, a kitchen knife, and my thin sheet of a blanket.

Where I ran to though, was the equivalent, if not worse.

I ran in the middle of the night, unsuspected, through the woods 2 miles from the orphanage.

I ran in complete darkness with no flashlight, just a small cigarette lighter I found on the ground.

I walked for 2 hours through the woods, constantly being pummeled by brush and debris.

With that time passed, I stopped.

I was too exhausted to go any further.

My journey was done.

Where am I now you ask?

Well, I'll get to that.