scavenging scraps and doing whatever it took to stay alive. If it weren't for
the kindness of two strangers who became my friends, Arin and Pthillip, I
might still be on the street. I'm here, though. They brought me here, and now
I'm a Padawan. And I want to tell you about the children of Cularin who have
no homes. They - - well, we, since I was one of them - - call themselves the
There are lots of the Lost in Cularin. I mean, for a system as small as
ours, we have a lot of traffic. I know that some of my friends who watch over
the children still talk about what it was like when the Hutt was in charge.
Whatever gets said now, he was definitely running slaves through Cularin. When
there were children who were too weak or sick to be good sales, he'd have his
lackeys dump them. Or he might steal their parents to sell, and leave the
children to take care of themselves.
Not all of the children are that kind of tragic thing, though. Some of
them just ran away from home. The thing with the Lost is, we all ended up
together, and it didn't matter why. It only mattered that we were together. We
always thought we could make it just fine.
It's hard, though. See, food isn't cheap, but at least there are places
where you can get it. The Lost do grow up. I mean, look at me. I'm growing up,
I guess. And the people who were part of the Lost, when they get older and can
do something, sometimes they do.
What makes it hard is that once you've lived alone for a while, you get
proud, and you don't want people giving you handouts. Even children can get
like that. The people who grew up and got jobs and everything, they remember
what it was like. So they don't do handouts, but they do