9. The First Few Months

The first light of dawn filtered through the narrow gap between the buildings, casting a pale, golden glow over the alley where Aaron had spent the night. He stirred, his body stiff and aching, but the pain was much duller now, he had gotten used to it over the course of the past months. 

He sat up slowly, wincing as his ribs protested the movement, and rubbed the sleep from his eyes. The alley was quiet, the usual sounds of the city still distant, and for a moment, he allowed himself to simply breathe.

It had been a few month since he had woken up in this world. A few month since he had been thrust into a life of hardship and survival. The days had been long and brutal, filled with hunger, pain, and desperation. But he had survived. Somehow, he had made it through the worst of it.

Aaron stood, his movements cautious but more confident than they had been in those first few days. His body was still thin, his clothes still ragged, but he had managed to patch the worst of the tears in his tunic and trousers. 

His feet, once tender and raw, were now calloused and tough from walking barefoot on the rough cobblestones. He had even managed to find a pair of worn-out shoes, discarded in a pile of garbage, and though they were too big for him, they offered some protection against the cold and the sharp stones.

He stretched, his muscles protesting the movement, and glanced around the alley. It had become his refuge, a place where he could rest without fear of being chased away or beaten. 

The ground was still littered with debris, but he had cleared a small space for himself, piling up scraps of cloth and old sacks to create a makeshift bed. It wasn't much, but it was better than sleeping on the cold, hard ground.

Aaron's stomach growled, a reminder that survival was a constant battle. He reached into the small pouch he had fashioned from a scrap of cloth and pulled out a piece of bread. It was stale and dry, but it was food. He tore off a small piece and chewed slowly, savoring the taste. It wasn't much, but it was enough to keep him going.

As he ate, his mind wandered back to those first few days, the memories still vivid and painful.

The first few days had been a living nightmare. Aaron had been completely unprepared for the harsh reality of life on the streets. He had tried to steal, but his inexperience had made him clumsy and obvious. He had been caught more times than he could count, and each time had ended in pain and humiliation.

He remembered one particularly brutal encounter with a fruit vendor. He had been so hungry, so desperate, that he had tried to snatch an apple from the man's stall. But the vendor had seen him coming and had grabbed him before he could even touch the fruit. The man had been furious, his face red with anger as he shook Aaron roughly.

Aaron had tried to explain, to beg for mercy, but the man hadn't listened. He had beaten Aaron with a stick, the first blows landing on his head and then his back and legs until he had collapsed to the ground, sobbing in pain. 

The vendor had kicked him one last time before spitting on him and walking away, leaving Aaron lying in the dirt, bruised and broken. He even lost conscious. It was the first time he had felt death approach him. 

He would've died if a passerby hadn't intervened. He even had headaches due to it for a few days, but fortunately he pulled through and it didn't incapacitate him. Otherwise he would have been a goner. Even now thinking about it made him shudder.

That had been the worst of it, even worse than his first time. There had been other incidents as well. Some stall owners had been less violent, simply chasing him away with harsh words or a slap. But even those encounters had left him shaken and afraid.

He had quickly learned that stealing was too risky, at least for now. Instead, he had turned to begging. It had been humiliating, standing on the side of the street with his hand outstretched, pleading for scraps. 

Most people had ignored him, their eyes sliding past him as if he were invisible. But a few had taken pity on him, tossing him a coin or a piece of bread. It wasn't much, but it had kept him alive.

As the days passed, Aaron had grown more cautious, more skilled. He began to pay attention. He watched others that stole and how they got away with them. Learning from their movements and techniques. 

He had started to pick his targets more carefully, waiting for the right moment to strike. He had learned to move quickly and quietly, to blend into the crowd, to disappear before anyone could catch him.

It hadn't been easy, and there had been setbacks. He had been caught a few more times, each encounter leaving him with new bruises and scars.Despite these brutal encounters, Aaron refused to give up. 

He learned from his mistakes, becoming more cautious and strategic in his attempts to steal food. He had managed to steal a few pieces of fruit, a loaf of bread, even a small pouch of coins once. It wasn't much, but it had been enough to keep him going.

Slowly, Aaron began to have some success. He managed to steal a few pieces of food here and there, enough to keep him going, enough to give him the strength to keep fighting. He learned to hide his stolen goods, to keep them safe from prying eyes and greedy hands. He learned to ration his food, to make it last, to stretch it out as far as it would go.

Aaron found himself falling into a rhythm, a routine that gave his life some semblance of structure. He would wake up early, and make his way to the marketplace. He would beg, he would steal, he would do whatever it took to find food, to find shelter, to find a way to stay alive.

The most important lesson that Aaron learned, etched into his very bones with a chilling clarity, was the art of invisibility. To be small, unnoticed, a shadow flitting through the bustling marketplace, was the key to survival. Attracting attention, he quickly realized, was a death sentence. 

He was lucky that nothing had happened to him and the few times that he got caught stealing weren't in the gang's territory. Because he saw someone getting caught stealing by the gang, and a few days later he saw that child who was just a few years older than him. Or it would be better to say what remained of him as the rats where feeding on him. It was the worst thing he had seen in his both life and it caused him to be more cautious about everything. 

Aaron finished the last of his bread and tucked the pouch back into his tunic. He stood, brushing the dirt from his clothes, and stepped out of the alley into the bustling street. The city was already coming to life, the air filled with the sounds of shouting, and the clatter of carts on cobblestones. The smells of roasting meat, fresh bread, and spices wafted through the air, making his stomach growl again.

"Oh god, what I would do for a tooth brush and a warm shower. Other than food of course," Aaron said under his breath

He moved through the crowd with practiced ease, his eyes scanning the stalls and the people around him. He had learned to be cautious, to always be aware of his surroundings. He knew which stalls were safe to approach and which ones to avoid. 

He knew which streets were patrolled by guards and which ones were controlled by gangs. He had learned the hard way that the city was a dangerous place, but he had also learned how to navigate it.

Aaron spotted a stall selling roasted meat, the smell making his mouth water. He hesitated for a moment, then approached cautiously. The stall owner was busy talking to a customer, his back turned. 

Aaron moved quickly, his small hands darting out to grab a piece of meat from the counter. He tucked it into his tunic and slipped away, disappearing into the crowd before the man even noticed.

He found a quiet corner and sat down, pulling the meat from his tunic. It was still warm, the juices dripping down his fingers as he took a bite. It was the best thing he had tasted in weeks, and he savored every mouthful.

As he ate, he allowed himself a small smile. He had come a long way in just short few months. He was still a street rat, still living on the fringes of society, but he had learned how to survive.

But as he sat there, the taste of the meat still lingering on his tongue, he couldn't help but think of his old life. He missed his family, his home, the warmth and safety he had taken for granted. He missed the world he had left behind.

He didn't know how he had ended up here, or if he would ever find a way back. But he knew one thing: he would keep going. He would survive, no matter what it took. He had to.

'I should start finding a way to get back home. I can't stay like this. I miss everything!' Aaron thought to himself.

Aaron stood, brushing the crumbs from his clothes, and stepped back into the crowd. 

A/N : Sorry about not uploading for a few days, I was unable to due to some personal issues. Also If you enjoy my book please add it to your library and if you have any suggestions comment them and let me know.