I was only 14 years old when my parents abandoned me. It was mid-December and the ground was white and fluffy with snow. The lakes were frozen solid, I had no clue where I was, but I was determined to find my parents. I spent three weeks finding my way out of the forest I had been lost in for so long. During that time period I thought to myself the whole way “why did they leave me? What did I do wrong? Did they even love me?” once out of the forest I found myself in a little town named Forestville. I wasn’t surprised when I saw the name, the population was small, only 436 people. As I traveled through the town I had seen something that looked very familiar. It was the sweater my mother wore when she left me. I sprinted to the sweater only to find it was covered in blood. I was overwhelmed with emotions. I was sad my mother was gone but I was also angry. My quest to find my parents changed into a quest to find there killers. There was a trail of blood back into the forest. I wondered why I hadn’t seen anyone in that small town of Forestville, and why nobody had reported or picked up my mother’s bloody sweater the trail led me deep into the forest for a week and a half. I survived off of berries and fish at times if I was lucky. The trail of blood ended and there was no sign of life for miles. I was about to give up on my search, when I heard a noise coming from a distance. As the noise approached I realized it was a large black truck coming full speed straight in my direction. I quickly jumped out of the way and the car stopped. A man wearing a black ski mask and leather gloves got out and charged straight at me. The man was much taller and much stronger than me. I tried to run but the man caught me and threw me to the ground. I quickly got up with a rock in my hand and attacked him, but he was too fast. He threw me down again and I hit my head on a rock and was knocked unconscious. I woke up but I was unsure how long I had been out for. I was back in the exact spot where I had started and I was cold, hungry, and confused. Why didn’t he kill me? Who was he? I stuck my hand in my pocket for warmth and felt a piece of folded paper that hadn’t been there before. I unfolded it and it read “there are something’s in this world you’re just too young to understand.” The name signed at the bottom was Steve Johnson, my father…