Entering the abandoned building, the runaway seeked shelter from the biting wind.

There was a scent of newspapers and garbage mixed together.

Strung in the corners, dirty and pungent bedding revealed this place to be filled with others like her.

Her skin itched at the sight of the blacked stains on the walls made by either mold or bed bug feces.

Walking up the emergency stairs, she checked each level of the building.

Conversations echoed faintly.

There were no windows on the upper floors and her skin, barely warmed, was cut by the sharp wind again.

Soldiering on through her aching legs, she finally arrived on the rooftop.

It was so cold up here and the wind felt like millions of scalpels.

However, the moldy and pungent smell was gone, replaced by fresh air.

There was an empty water tank that was broken apart.

Inside, it was grimy, but dried from the previous day’s sun.

“This will do.”

The runaway climbed into the water tank and covered the top with the broken cover she lifted from the ground.

Her spine and tailbone ground against the hard plastic water tank.

Shivering, she felt the water tank start to warm up with her body heat.

_‘Next time, I’ll grab some newspapers for more warmth.’_

__

(Gah! I didn’t see the poem title again until after I finished writing! Oh well, I’ll try not to miss that next time)