Tori's POV

Every teenager in the world complains about their parents on a weekly bases. Everyone that is except me.

When I was 4 my parents were killed in a car crash. The coroner said it was quick and painless but it wasn't something I understood at the time. All I knew was that they were gone. My grandmother took my in after that and although she was a sweet, kind and loving woman she could barely afford to feed us both. So when she too passed away I was left with nothing but a pile of debt. I had to sell off the house to pay it off and after that there was nothing left to live on.

So that's how I found myself living on the streets, praying that maybe tomorrow will get better for me. Maybe tomorrow I'll get lucky. But wishes and prayers are wasted on me. Nothing is ever going to change. No one wants to help an orphaned teenage street rat.

Today started off just like every other day. I woke up freezing to death on a park bench and raided the nearest trash can for food. Yesterday was bin day in this part of LA so I guess I should consider myself lucky that the rubbish is reasonably fresh.

I try and take as much food as I can from any of the mansions around here that I manage to break into and take what I can pawn or sell but it's not easy. And what little money I do make off of my stolen goods go straight into school fees.

I can't stick around in one place for long otherwise the cops get shitty and either try to arrest me or force me to move somewhere else anyway. It's just easier to keep on the move and try to stay under their radar.

Today's a school day so I better find a creek or public shower somewhere to wash up a bit so I'm at least presentable. I go to a performing arts school in Hollywood called performing arts. And although it is an amazing school and I've really learnt a lot there, it is really expensive to go to. But it's all I have.

I get up off the bench and grab my bag containing my few belongings and what little food I have left and head towards the public bathrooms they have at the truck stop a few blocks from where I spent the night. I prefer truck stop bathrooms than any other because truckers tend to be messy and they leave a lot of half eaten food lying around. So at least I might get a decent feed today.

In the shower stall I look through my bag. Crap. Practically empty. Only one set of clean clothes. No edible food. And nothing I can trade that is of any actual value. Looks like I'm going to have to go on a raid tonight.

When I raid houses I make sure that I only ever target the extremely wealthy. This is for a couple reasons. The first being that I know what it's like to struggle, so I'm definitely not going to steal from the poor and risk putting them in the same kind of situation I'm in myself. I wouldn't wish this on anyone. The second being that the more you have then the less you tend to notice when little things go missing. Money, jewellery, food. It's nothing really to them. They tend to assume they've misplaced it so they go out and by more meaningless crap to replace the meaningless crap they can't find. It's a vicious circle.

I think about all these things as I take the first shower I've had in several days. I think about how my life used to be and how it's turned out now. I think about how lucky the kids I go to school are and wish I could be normal like them. But most of all I think about beck. The cute coffee guy.

Beck Oliver is the most popular guy in school. All the ladies want him and all the guys want to be him. He's perfect. He's talented, he's gorgeous and from what I can tell, he's also a really genuine nice guy.

I can't help but smiling as I get out of the shower and get dressed as I think about him. But the smile is gone the second I remind myself that Oliver beck, same as everyone else on the planet, has no idea who I am or that I even really exist.

Leaving the truck stop, I head off towards school. It's a long walk that's going to take me at least an hour to get there, but I don't have any other choice. I can't afford the bus and I certainly can't afford a taxi. So my good old foot falcons are all I've got.

I always make sure I arrive at school o more than 10 minutes before the bell. That way by avoiding being too early or late I don't stand out. Living lifer under the radar is the only way I can survive.

I head open my locker and pretend to be busy putting my stuff away. Not that I have any but it gives me an excuse to be standing there. Why do I need an excuse you ask? Only because hot as hell beck's locker is within eye sight of mine ad he tends to hang out there before class. I know it sounds stalkerish that I do the same just to watch him, but hey, it's one of the few good things I have going in life.

He isn't at his locker this morning, so as I hear the warning bell alarm; I head off to class rather begrudgingly. Maybe he is sick? Hopefully he is just running late? It turns out neither is the case because there he is when I walk into class. Same seat as always.

My classes when by really quickly today. And before I knew it school was over and I'm being swept out the front gate with the majority of the students. Time to get my head in the game and prepare myself for what in know I need to do now.

Choosing a target and forming a plan is just the easy part. It's getting there and implementing it that always worries me. I stake out the mansion I've chosen. I see a middle age man exit and drive off in his BMW. After I'm satisfied the house is now empty I go for it.

I've been watching the house long enough to know that he hasn't got an alarm on the windows but he does o the doors. Windows are always my best bet. If nothing noticeable is taken then they just pass it off as vandalism. The downside to breaking in through a window is that they make a lot of noise to smash. This is going to have to be quick.

I grab a rock from his perfect garden and move around to the side of the house where I'm satisfied I'm hidden from street view. Taking a step back I hurl the rock. Shattering the glass.

Without missing a beat I clamour through the window and immediately start picking the room I'm in clean of anything I don't think he will notice. I finish with that room and I'm sure I've grabbed enough stuff to sell and live off for the next few weeks, so I quickly move on and locate the kitchen.

I push open the swinging door and step inside. But that's as far as I get. My progress is brought to an instant halt when I see movement out of the corner of my eye and a growl sound. Shit, he's got a dog. A big dog.

I find it best that in these situations to make a run for it. If I stay still then most likely the dog won't attack. But it also means I'm stuck here till the owners get home and then I'm really screwed. But on the other hand by running I pretty much ensure the dog goes after me but hey, at least I'm giving myself a shot.

In seconds I'm diving out the broken window, cutting my arm on the glass as I hit the ground and roll straight back onto my feet. Without looking back I just run at a flat out sprint for the road.

I dot hear anything land outside the window so I'm hopeful that the dog hasn't followed me out. But that's simply not a risk I'm willing to take. Being homeless and half starved means that I don't get the nutrients my body really needs to function properly so I am already feeling dizzy after just a few steps.

Running blindly out onto the road, I don't see the oncoming car until it's too late. I panic and freeze. Like a deer caught in the headlights. I vaguely hear the screech of tires as I think to myself "this is it Vega".