The lights in Nitro were bleak. It reminded Ryan so much of is childhood—what he could even call a childhood. Looking around at the deserted street he’d been born and raised on, he couldn’t feel anything. It was like someone had ripped out a large part of his heart and had replaced it with a block of ice. He didn’t know what he should think about this place. Whether he should be angry, upset, or just removed.
The shed that he could remember vaguely was where he’d spent the last of his few years in Kitro. The ceiling had caved in and the door like fixture—which had only been a piece of plywood—was no longer there. He stood there, waiting for someone—anyone—to walk by so he could leave. He was stuck in a trance, his eyes glued to the dark shed and the broken buildings along the street. He
