Hello! I'm Mark. I'm a 15 year old boy searching for my father. What I have on me is just my guitar, a backpack I got from my deceased foster parents, and a wallet that has a dollar and 50 cents I got from

Life's hard if you'll ask me. I never met my real parents, but I was adopted by two nice people, My foster mom Angelica and my foster dad Ryan. Life was happy until they both got sick.

They were old by that time. My mom Angelica was about 54, my dad Ryan was 56, and i was 13. They told me they just had a cold but I knew what sickness they had at that time. It was cancer. I don't know what type of cancer it was but I heard it in a conversation between them and the doctor.

And by 4 months time, they passed away at the same time. It hurt because I was all alone. The only thing they left me was a guitar and a message.

"Mark, come here. I have something to tell you. Your true father, he was a friend of mine. Although he gave you to us, he was always worrying for you. He always checks up on you and ask if you were doing okay. His name is Reynold, I hope you can find him and be with him. He lives at-" My dad, Ryan said.

I panicked. I check dad's pulse, his breathing, and even his heartbeart. Everything didn't give me a response. No pulse, no breathing, and no heartbeats. I cried so much and when I looked at my mom, she was no longer with me too.

I cried for a whole day. It was hard to move on. But I thought, I still have my true father. I have to find him. So I wiped my tears and began looking for my father. Goodbye house. I'd never see you again because I can't pay rent of course.

Now on the middle of the city, that was when the thought hit me. All that I have on me to find my father is his name! How could I find him in the middle of a city as large as this!

I had nothing to do that I could think of that time so I held my guitar and put my backpack down and play my guitar, so that I could have money for food later.

A few kind hearted people gave me money. I continued busking for a while.

Finally, I stopped. I looked at the money and counted. "1...2...3! 3 dollars, I hope that's enough for my food for the night.

I got my guitar and backpack and went to a food shop. I ordered the cheapest meal that they had. "That'll be 3.50$." The man said.

"O-oh? 3.50$? Uhh, sir can you let me off? I'm just 50 cents off, please?" I asked

"No" The man said.

"Oh come on. You know what? I'll play a song for you." I got my guitar and played a song. "I was 50cents short, and a guy let me off and gave me the mea-" I was stopped when the guy threw the meal at the trashcan and said "Listen boy, if you don't have the money, don't order a god damn thing!".

"O-oh, alright. Sorry." I left the shop and went to the subway to sleep. I guess I'm not eating tonight. And I fell asleep.