Cold Night

Samantha made her way down the street. She wasn't sure exactly where she was going, but she decided if the orphanage was going to simply cut ties with her so directly and so difinitively, she might as well put some distance between it and herself and try to get a fresh start on her "adult" life. Maybe she would go by the name her mother had originally given her, it seemed fitting if she was to have a new life it might be the best way. Not that anyone in this outside world would know her anyways. Maybe going by a new name would help her not to think of her old life, not to become homesick for what she once had, or not to think of the horrors of being an orphan, and to concentrate on becoming something other than what she had been born into. Late afternoon came quickly, as she made her way through winding streets, some were dirt and walled on each side by dark colored buildings of brick and painted wood, some dilapidated and nearly crumbling from their foundations, others sturdy and castle-like. Other streets were covered in cobblestones and busy with wagons, carts, carriages, people on horseback, and donkey, and of course most afoot. There were shops with colorful signs and beautiful displays, and there were carts with flowers and trinkets and fruits and vegetables of all kinds. She didn't think she had ever seen so much food in all her life. Her stomach growled as she looked at the shiny apples, but the way the shopkeepers and cart owners eyed her as she walked by she dare not try to grab any. She eyed them just as warily, furtively looking for one that was not paying her any attention. Finally, she happened upon a cart that was piled high with fruits of various size and shape, some of which she was not even sure what it was. It wasn't as if the orphanage had had the best variety of such fresh produce, even though it seemed to be in abundance in this side of town. She quickly snatched up something oblong in shape and greenish yellow in color and slipped into the crowd that was milling around the cart. The owner, a harried looking fat little balding man seemed too busy with bartering house servants to notice her anyways. She smiled as she slowed her pace so as not to attract attention. As she looked up though, she saw a young man watching her from where he was leaning against against a wall at the top of some stone steps. Her eyes widened for a moment with fear as she prepared to run into the crowd and attempt to disappear, but just when she was about to turn tail, a sideways grin split his face, and she saw his head bob as he gave a short chuckle. She looked at him quizzically for a moment and then looked quickly away and continued walking. At least she had acquired something to keep the hunger pains at bay for a bit. Now she needed to find someplace to bunk down for the night.
Night fell quickly and the streets seemed to empty almost as if on cue. There were a few people still out, and some constables of course. She avoided them at all cost lest they think she was a runaway and try to throw her in jail. Though that would solve her problem of where to sleep for the night. London's jails were not a place one wanted to be though, even lacking a bed. She knew from stories from Miss Higgins that they were full of scary people who wanted to harm you, not to mention the rats and lice, and human excrement. The orphanage had had mice, no rats though, and Miss Higgins made the girls do laundry so often that their hands were all cracked and red, so Samantha was fairly certain they didn't have lice. She walked down the street, looking carefully around her trying to see in the darkness, the street lamps let out little light in the moist night air. Suddenly a hand grabbed her arm and pulled her into the shadows. She was about to let out a scream when a hand went over her mouth and she was pulled into somebody. "Shhhh. You don't want them to catch you." A voice said, spinning her around to face him. it was the young man from earlier.