It was a windy Wednesday evening in January. The rain splashed upon the cobbled streets in Bolton. A couple of stars shone luminously, showing silhouettes of anything that might be lurking in the alleyways.

Daisy Flower didn’t bother that the cold was biting her nose, she only cared about crossing the checkpoint. She pulled her hood over her head, hoping no one could see her shuffle onto City Road.

Unluckily, she could just about make out a guard standing near the checkpoint where the borderline of the small village and the big city of Greater Manchester lay. 

“Next!” the guard bellowed, rolling his eyes. He gave Daisy a ‘give me’ signal and she handed over her bag. “What ya doin’ with these, ey.” he spat, yanking a newspaper out of her bag. “I’m going around the city to do my paper rounds,” muttered Daisy, cowering under her hood. The guard lifted up the checkpoint and pointed to Manchester.   

Seconds later, Daisy was roaming through Manchester. Here, large roads were common and small streets were…very rare. People did whatever they wanted: dancing; chatting; anything! Daisy really wished she was like them, not an immigrant.

Daisy looked down whilst quietly dropping newspapers in front of the doors. She tried to stay secretive, always remembering

what her mum said, ‘Stay away from strangers.’ ……. Suddenly, a man grabbed her by the wrists and pulled her into a dark alleyway.

“Gimme dat!” declared the man, snatching her backpack. “And any cash!” Daisy crouched, pushed him and ran off, walking sideways to avoid getting squashed. But then, she couldn’t go anywhere, she was trapped! 

There was the mans shadow, towering over Daisy. It looked like Daisy was his puppet, the man just reaching out to grab her. Daisy gulped. The mans eyes shone with selfishness, glaring at Daisy. She spotted a tall flat, abandoned. And a minute later, she was through the door.