EXCAVATION

Adams was running, his heart pounding like a drum in his chest. The cold wind bit at his face as he sprinted down the dusty road beside the lake. Behind him, flashing blue and red lights chased like angry fireflies. Police. They were close. In his hand, he clutched a small, old suitcase. It wasn’t much to look at—worn leather, scratched and dirty. But inside it was something important, something that might change everything. Adams had found it next to a man lying dead by the lake. The man had been clutching the suitcase tightly when he died. Adams hadn’t thought twice before grabbing it—his instincts told him to run. The city was waking up around him, but Adams didn’t slow down. He knew what awaited him at home. His mother, Ruth, was sick. Really sick. The kind of sick where the cough doesn’t stop, and the face grows pale. She lay on a thin mattress in their small, broken-down house, the cold seeping through the cracks in the walls. No money for a doctor, no money for medicine.Adams’ heart thumped. Just as he thought he might get caught, three men stepped from behind a wall. They were rough-looking and mean-eyed. “Give us the watch,” one said, stepping closer. Adams shook his head, fear twisting in his gut. But he wasn’t about to give up the one chance he had. He fought hard, throwing punches and dodging blows. His muscles burned, but adrenaline kept him moving. When he finally broke free, he ran as fast as he could, his breath ragged. He heard sirens wailing in the distance. Adams sold the watch to a buyer he barely trusted but who paid enough to buy medicine for his mother and food for himself. He counted the money carefully, clutching it like a treasure. On his way home, Adams felt the chill of the evening settle over the city. Suddenly, a pack of mad dogs appeared, barking loudly and chasing after him. Fear exploded inside him, but he darted down narrow alleys and squeezed through tight spaces. The dogs’ angry yelps faded behind him. Finally, Adams reached home. He was exhausted, his clothes torn and dirty, but he smiled as he saw his mother resting more peacefully with the medicine beside her.Adams’ legs burned as he rounded the corner to their home. He pushed open the creaking wooden door and found his mother lying there, weaker than before. “Mama,” he said softly, kneeling beside her. Her tired eyes opened and gave him a faint smile. “I’m going to find money for your medicine,” Adams promised, though he wasn’t sure how. The next morning, Adams set out early, hope in his heart but heavy in his steps. He walked to the city’s busy downtown, where people hurried past him in polished shoes and neat clothes. He knocked on doors, looked at posters, and asked for work. A few people laughed and told him to get lost. Others ignored him. No one wanted to hire a boy with dirt under his nails and holes in his shoes. Hungry and tired, Adams felt the weight of the world on his young shoulders. But he didn’t give up. He needed money for his mother. Days passed, and the hunger grew. One afternoon, Adams saw a man sitting alone on a bench, checking his phone. On the man’s wrist sparkled a watch—a Rolex, shiny and expensive. Adams’ stomach clenched. He knew it was risky, but desperate times called for desperate measures. Before he could think twice, Adams had snatched the watch and was running. The man shouted and chased after him. “Stop! Thief!” Adams clutched the stolen Rolex tightly as he darted through the crowded streets, his chest burning with every breath. But just as he thought he was safe, three rough-looking men stepped out from a dark alley blocking his path. “Give us that watch,” one growled, his eyes cold and hard. Adams shook his head, fists tightening. He knew if he let them have it, he’d lose everything—the medicine, the food, the hope. The men lunged at him, but Adams fought back with a strength he didn’t know he had. He dodged punches, landed a few of his own, and pushed his way past them. His heart hammered, adrenaline fueling his every move. As he ran, sirens blared closer. Suddenly, from behind a nearby fence, a pack of mad dogs barked fiercely, snarling and chasing after him. Panic surged through Adams, but he sprinted faster, weaving through narrow alleys and jumping over fences. The dogs snapped at his heels, but he didn’t stop. With a final burst of speed, Adams escaped into a quiet street, the angry yelps fading behind him. Breathing hard, bruised but alive, he held the watch tighter than ever. This was his chance—and he wasn’t going to lose it. After escaping the dogs and the street chaos, Adams didn’t stop moving until he reached one of the back-alley shops he knew—where anything could be sold for the right price. The man behind the counter eyed him carefully, but when Adams showed him the Rolex, his expression changed. “Ten thousand. No questions,” the man said. Adams agreed immediately. He didn’t care for bargaining—he just needed the money. With part of the cash, Adams rushed to the pharmacy and bought the medicine his mother desperately needed. Then he picked up food—fresh bread, milk, some fruits. His heart felt lighter as he carried the bags through the narrow paths toward home. For once, he wasn’t returning empty-handed. Back in their tiny house, Ruth was still lying weakly on her mat. Adams helped her take the medicine, fed her gently, and watched as a small bit of color returned to her cheeks. “Thank you, my son,” she whispered. “You’re all I have.” Adams smiled and blinked away the tears. That night, after making sure his mother was warm, he opened the old tin under the bed and hid the rest of the money inside. It wasn’t much by rich people’s standards—but to Adams, it was life.As he finally lay down to rest, something nudged his memory. He reached under his pillow and pulled out the folded paper from the suitcase he had stolen earlier near the lake. It was aged, but the writing was sharp and clean: *“Job Application – Bodyguard Needed. Immediate Start.”* Adams sat up, reading it carefully, line by line. It even included a name—Hawthorne Security—and an address uptown. A smile crept across his face. From the streets… to this? Maybe fate wasn’t just cruel. Maybe it had plans for him after all. Clutching the paper to his chest, Adams let his tired eyes close. Sleep came quickly, for the first time in days. Tomorrow, a new chapter would begin.