Building My Life

e as soon as possible. The only thing he remembers at the moment was that when he went to take a shower, the clock sai

ses. As he approaches the bus stop, a boy is waiting for the next

o is waiting to drive with him would never have imagined that the boy

the other boy. He puts his hand in his pocket and counts the money he collected in a hurr

borhood either, since the population was humble. Residents did their best to keep the neighborhood clean and orderly. There was a Residents' Association that looked after the neighborhood an

to borrow money from was known in the neighborhood. His house was one of the best; it looked like a Beverly Hills mansion. And the henchmen who worked for him put fear in the ne

weatpants are not a typical piece of clothing to be worn by someone who is going to board the bus bound f

walking around the bus like a somnambulist, oblivious around him, sits on one of the benches and leans against the

n Josias realized that he didn't have enough to spend a night anywhere. Therefo

unwise. People would easily take him as a beggar, or a deviant drug user, or a mental imbal

ntrance to Happiness Slum. The name had nothing to do with the appearance of the area; it was a low-class, ba

ing off the bus, when the other boy, overcome by curiosity, stops th

ith glasses, a long-sleeved shirt, and jeans. He is the same

e and gives a slight smile. “

his pockets for some money. But when he releases Josias's wrist, he

me, buddy?” Josias speaks

t Josias, and smiles widely. “Sure, brot

hed the requested stop. Josias notices

ring you the best for your life. You will get out of this and be successful. And