Finding Help

137.

Caleb flew into an open window of a run down apartment building not very far from Scotty's Diner. The dingy interior was covered in dust, a testament to how long it had been since he had come home. While the window had allowed for some breeze to come in, it wasn't enough to get rid of the moldy scent of neglect and too many humans pressed together. 

Cracks in the wall ran in zigzag patterns throughout the different rooms, following him as he entered the only bedroom. Walking over to the closet, he threw on a pair of sweatpants, a shirt, and a pair of sneakers. Returning to the main room, he disregarded the pile of mail on the floor in front of the front door as he stepped over it and pulled open the flimsy door, not bothering to lock it behind him as he ran down the stairs.