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Chicago, once described as "The city that works". The city that does not need the regular tourism it receives every year. But is not afraid to welcome it. The city that is used to the constant roar of the train system all day and all night. A sound that everyone should experience and not just on some silly movie. The buildings that are a mixture of new modern architecture and also the structures that hold so much history within them.

Every year the Chicago river runs green for St Patricks day. A day of celebration for many. A day that brings people together, but can also tear them apart. The day starts with drinking and can sometime end in bar brawls. The people of Chicago will gladly argue that their pizza is the best pizza in the world. They will argue with passion. Passion you have never heard spoken for food anywhere else in the world. Roughly 2.7 million people live here in Chicago, I being one of them.

December 1st:

It was a cold night again in Chicago. But that never changed. It had snowed earlier in the day and the people were used to it. Everyone just went about there usual days and followed the same patterns. Wake up, go to work, go home, go to sleep. This was the pattern that went on day in and day out. No one stopped long enough to notice how cold it actually was. Except, the people who lived on the streets. Those people knew when it was cold, when it was warm and when it was wet. They have no homes to go to. They have no comfy beds to sleep on. They just had a flattened box to sleep on or some sort of bag to rest their head. But if they was really lucky, they had a sleeping bag. These belongs often found in bins or stollen from local shops in order to survive. Often, these belongs came from fellow homeless people who didn't survive the night and that everyone had stolen without thinking of the loss of life.

I'm Lexa. I have none of these possessions. I have no home. I have no box. I merely have my dirty beanie hat, my dads old jacket, my ripped jeans and my torn tennis shoes. I have been on the streets for maybe 6months. I lost track of the days. Fighting to survive. I was lucky if i got more then 3 hours sleep a night. Waking to every noise just in case someone was trying to steal from me. I walk the streets every night looking for somewhere safe and dry to sleep. I very rarely find either.

I didn't really miss having a home, I simply miss the royalties that comes with it. A hot shower, clean hair, a comfy mattress to sleep on, the ability to curl my toes in a soft carpet as i walk naked from one room to the other. The toe curling was what i missed most. Its what we like to call a hidden treasure.

I know its December. The Christmas decorations are hanging in the local stores and the lights hang from all of the lamp posts. The children run through the streets, happy, under the impression that santa would soon be bringing them presents when he magically comes into their homes without a trace. It's hard to believe that i once fucking believed in all of that bullshit. Especially now after I've experienced what real life is like.

The big clock above me reads 7pm. Im hungry. I haven't eaten since around 7am this morning when i managed to find a half eaten bag of fries in the trash. They were cold, and they were wet. But food is food and i cant turn it down at the moment. Im walking, or shall i say stumbling to the closest store. My feet are killing me. I have around two dollars and a bit of change to hopefully buy me a drink and food. Water cant be that expensive right? The money came from a small girl with blue eyes. Her eyes screamed kindness at me as she handed me the money.

"This is all i have. You're really pretty and i want you to have the last of my pocket money. Please buy food and not drugs" she says "My mom always says homeless people only want money because they have problems".

I didn't have the heart to tell her that her mom is a bitch and should go fuck herself. After all, she may only be around 10 if i had to guess, but she just showed more kindness than any of the adults who have walked past me in the last 24 hours.

I stumble into the store and straight to the refrigerator. I can feel feel the guy behind the counter watching my every movement. I turn, give him my best "fuck off" smile and continue looking for the cheapest water. I grab the water and move to find some sort of food within my budget. As i'm looking around the store, i can feel everyone looking at me. I get it people, I look a fucking mess and probably smell like a dumpster.
I move around to the where the warm pastries and pies are being held. Not only is it the first bit of heat i have felt all day, but the smell coming from the oven is exactly how i imagine heaven would smell.

"You can't shop here. You're scaring my customers" the shop keeper angrily says to me.

"yeah? well i have money and i'm minding my own business. So, let me pick what i want, take my money and i'll be gone!"

"NO! Leave now, or i'll call the cops!" He screams at me

I don't know why i did it. I just did. It was in the heat of the moment i guess.

I grabbed a handful of chocolate bars that were sitting on the counter, threw my money at the shop keeper and made for the door. The only problem with my escape? Well, the wet floor by the smoothie machine wasn't incorporated into my plan! As i ran, i felt my feet slip from under me and i landed straight on my back. I could feel the pain, but the only thing running through my brain was how stupid I felt.
A dark shadow came over me as someone stepped into the light. I had hoped that the ground had swallowed me up and i had been put out of my misery. No such luck. As I looked to see who it was staring at me, i noticed the sound of a police radio. I closed my eyes and awaited the handcuffs that were going to be slapped on my wrists. I waited and waited. But nothing happened. I opened one eye, only to see an officer. A blonde, blue eyed, stunning police officer standing in front of me holding out her hand. Her hair tied back into a tight pony tail. Her face with just the slightest amount of makeup on. Her lips the cutest shade of pink. Her jaw line was so sharp, so perfect you wouldn't think it was possible to be on one persons face.
Her name badge read "Griffin" and i think she might have been the prettiest police officer i had ever seen. Well, i correct myself. She is the prettiest. Especially considering the rest are all pigs who hate my kind of people!

"Can i help you up? or are you just going to stare at me?"

I sat myself up unaided. Her hand retreated to her vest.

"Lets start with your name?" She said with a smile on her face.

"You first…" I don't know why i said that.

"Well i'm officer Clarke Griffin. Your turn".

Clarke…Thats a pretty name. It suits her.

It was at this moment i realised i was having one of my inner monologue moments. I was staring at her and she was staring at me. But her stare was if i was crazy. Mine, well i was just admiring her if i'm honest.

"I'm Lexa…"

"Well Lexa, do you wanna come with me so i can ask you a few questions?"

Ah shit! I knew she was too good to be true…