A/N: Another friggin' story has plagued my imagination. My muse is, once again, being a bitch about my other stories. I don't own a thing besides Jax. Forgive me for being so absent in my updates and enjoy this hot mess.

Plot: You never know what to expect in the streets of Chicago. So much hustle and bustle that you ignore a lot of things around you so you can keep track of your own life. Jackie "Jax" Van Horn is a 16-year-old, homeless girl with a knack for stealing things. She has spent two years of her life living as a "street rat", so it's normal for her to lift peoples wallets, steal cars for joy rides, etc. Is such a life for someone who lives on these-


Hurricane Streets

Chapter One

The busy streets of Chicago, Illinois were just that.

Busy.

Blurs of yellow taxis and other cars of color took up the roads wanting to get where they needed to go. You knew that they weren't going to get there on time because the roads were always cluttered with the idiocy of the human population. Tempers rose and nostrils flared as they honked their horns like that was going to make them go any faster. Life would be more simple if it actually worked. Unfortunately, life isn't simple no matter how hard you want it to be, no matter how many times you honk your car horn.

There's always going to be that one person who makes your life a living hell even for that one brief moment.

Men and women were covering the sidewalks on either sides of the road. Many of them were business people, while some just existed in the population. Some were walking to work, and some were just walking. Plain and simple. The life these people lead is simple. They get up, go to work, come home, eat, then sleep. Same exact thing every day; the same routine.

For Jackie "Jax" Van Horn, though. It was the exact opposite. Some days she would wander around the city thinking about nothing. Other days she would jack a car just for the hell of it, take it somewhere and park it for the owner to find.

It was also one of those days where Jax decided to lift a skateboard off of some street punk and run like hell. Hey, it was his fault for leaving the damn thing chilling on the sidewalk. To Jax, it was up for grabs. His friends didn't see it that way as they chased after the ballsy 16-year-old down the streets of Chi-town.

Jax was 5'8 at best, and slim enough to weave through the men and women that cluttered the streets. The skateboard was tucked under her arm, and her tongue was pressed between her lips as she ran. Jax chanced it as she glanced over her thin shoulder. She wasn't watching where she was going as she smacked right into somebody with an "Oomph!"

The blonde teenager stumbled back a bit, losing the skateboard in the process. She mumbled a quick "Sorry" as she regained her balance.

"Whoa, hey, you alright, kid?" Jax glanced at the figure only for a moment before looking back over her shoulder.

"Uhm..."

"Gimme back my board, you little shit!"

"Gotta go!" Jax shot passed the man and disappeared into the nearest alleyway where she climbed into a dumpster and slammed the lid shut. It didn't bother her. She had smelled worse things than dumpsters in her sixteen years of life.

Jax remained quiet as she heard running footsteps suddenly stop in the alley.

"Where in the hell did that chick go?" One demanded. "I'm gonna murder her for jacking my board!"

"Man, relax," Someone else spoke, trying to calm his friend down. "She dropped your board, and now you have it back. C'mon, man, she was just a kid playing some stupid prank."

Jax smirked, and she nearly snickered. It was true. She didn't want to keep the thing, she didn't even know how to skate!

The first skater growled. "You're right. But if I ever see her again, I'm gonna-"

"Jason, just shut up and let's get out of here." The other said firmly. "Crack dealers hang around in alleyways, and I don't wanna be here."

"Alright, ya pussy! Jesus..." Their footsteps and voices faded, yet Jax remained where she was for another half an hour. She didn't want to risk the possibility of the skaters hanging around the place waiting for her to come out of the stink hole. Jax was laying amongst black bags filled with only God knew what, some of them were torn and leaking greasy fluids that made the air even more acrid than it already was.

After a time, Jax peaked out from under the lid and her blue eyes peered around. Not a soul was in sight. Wonderful. The sixteen year old blonde threw the lid back with a clang, and she jumped out reeking of rotten...everything. She knew she smelled like a corpse but she didn't care. She would just take a quick dive in Lake Michigan if needed.

Jax reached into her back pocket and pulled out a black wallet. She had habitually lifted it from the guy that she had bumped into on the street. She had every intention of giving it back. The blonde opened it up and saw credit cards, a membership to a Gold's Gym, and a couple of large bills, some change, a receipt for a pair of shoes...

Jax peered at the driver's license to see the face of someone who looked like they hadn't smiled or slept in a million years. He had black hair that was slicked back and a neatly trimmed beard. He had bags under his eyes, indicating that he was either a pothead or an insomniac. She took in the birth date and address before looking at the name on the laminated rectangle.

"Phillip Jack Brooks, huh?"


A/N: Wanna see where this one goes?