Ciara's POV

A light fall of rain cascaded from the sky as I silently wandered the streets of Haven City, a small bag slung over my shoulder filled with an assortment of food, water, and some new clothes and shoes I was forced to steal from a store a few nights back. I pulled my black hoodie over my face more with my free hand, trying to keep the water from hitting my face, while the other hand held onto a long cylinder pipe, which I started to carry around about two months ago. It was in case I would have some fighting to do in the future - I may have been young, but I had done my fair share of reading books, and oddly I read a lot more books about martial arts than anything else. Although my face was partially dry, the rest of my clothes were not so lucky. My black t-shirt and jean shorts stuck to my skin and soaked me to the bone, causing a slight shiver to course through me. My sneakers felt as if I had been walking through puddles of water, so I decided to switch them out whenever I found a good spot to hide under and protect myself from the rain for a few short minutes. My shoulder length blond hair was pushed back inside my hood, while some strands of my green bangs stuck to my face. Despite the fact I was wearing a hood, my hair still felt a little damp, but was not soaked like the rest of my clothes.

My azure colored eyes - I learned about different colors, like azure, from some other books I had read - stared at the ground absently for a long moment, before looking straight ahead, scanning the area around me for a brief moment.

I had been wandering the streets of the huge city for as long as I could remember. Although it was still morning and raining, the city looked alive and filled with life on every corner. Plants were sprouting and blooming, flowers were scattered here and there, civilians wandered the streets, entering and exiting shops nearby with an assortment of items in each hand. Even though today was not one of the best-looking days I had ever seen, the city still bustled with life. I scanned over my surroundings for another moment before sighing, lowering my head a bit. It was days like this that made me feel even more depressed than before. From time to time, I would spot a small group of people, two adults and about two to three children at most, and recognized them as a happy family spending their day in the city. Their smiles and laughter made me feel left out of what they were doing, wondering what it was they were up to that made them so happy to be around.

I slowly looked back at the ground as I thought about the family I did not remember, a family I could not remember at all no matter how hard I tried to think of them. It was hard being unable to remember my own family. My mother had died after she gave birth to her second child, a son, when I was around the age of three or four. However, I never got the chance to get to know him or my father, since they mysteriously disappeared and never came back. Feeling alone, I decided to pack as much food and water as I could, packed some of my clothes, before leaving my home behind. I still remembered where it was, but I chose not to return, for fear of remembering the family I never really considered having as a child. I decided to stay on the streets, finding my own clothes to wear and what food to eat. It had been that way for two years straight, and it made me feel more independent to be alone without the consent of my parents telling me what to do and tell me what was right and wrong. Even though I missed them greatly to no end, it has helped me to learn what life was really like outside of the sanctuary that was my own home.

I learned that little fact the hard way two months back, when I stole a couple of fruits from a nearby store. I had run out of food at the time, and I was in desperate need of something to eat. Stealing was my only option at the time, since I forgot to bring some money of my own in case a situation like finding food arose. However, when I stole a good amount food to last me a good couple of weeks, I suddenly came upon a bunch of other kids. Clearly, they had also been living in the streets just like me; the only difference was that they probably did not catch up on reading...or common sense..

"What'cha got there, kid?" One of the taller kids who stood at the front spoke first. He had to be the leader of the group of other kids standing about, since he stood at least a few inches taller than the rest. He had shaggy black hair, green eyes, and a ragged shirt with a few holes punched into it. It looked a bit dirty judging by the discoloration, while his pants looked cleaner than the oddly colored shirt. It gave me the impression that he may have stolen them. The only thing he wore on his feet were a pair of worn out sandals, which I found a little stupid at the time but said nothing about it. He was also a bit on the chubby side, but it did not mean much to me.

I stared at him with nothing but a blank expression, taking not to the fact that they were only several feet from where I stood, before responding, "It's called food, dimwit," I scannrf him over a bit, "something you know a lot about."

He immediately glared at me; no doubt he did not appreciate the last comment.

"What's that supposed to mean?!" He snapped. Clearly, he was not brightest or knowledgeable kid on the streets, meaning any comebacks I retorted with would have to be explained. There were times when I felt I was growing up and maturing a lot faster than other children running about.

I sighed before turning a bit to look at him. "It means," I started, "that I'm assuming you know a lot about food, since you're a little bit on the...chubby side, for lack of a better term."

The other kids behind him looked at one another, surprised to hear such a thing spoken to their leader (let alone from a girl), as the leading kid growled at me.

"It's not my fault, you know!" He retorted. Then, he pointed to himself with his thumb. "I've been living in the streets for almost a year now, and I tend get hungry fast!"

I raised an eyebrow briefly before asking, "How? By running around the city , because it's quite obvious you haven't gone for a jog in some time."

Thoroughly upset with the comments I'm making about his weight, his arm reached out toward me, as if he was asking me to give him something and said, "Just shut up and give us all your food! And since you think you're tough, give us everything else you've got on you!"

I blinked at his words before taking a bite out of the apple I was eating.

"No," I replied bluntly while chewing on the food.

Once again, the boys behind him looked at one another, surprised that a girl was refusing to give up her stuff to their 'boss,' who seemed to become even angrier than before.

"What'd you say?!" He growled.

I rolled my eyes before swallowing the fruit.

"I said no," I repeated myself. "Just because you think you can make yourself look tough around your so called lackeys doesn't mean you can intimidate every kid who has nothing but the clothes on their backs." I paused as my eyes narrowed in his direction. "And for your information, I've been living on the streets for nearly two and a half years. I've been out here much longer than you have, and I've been able to manage my weight fairly well. Either you're getting your 'friends' to do it because your lazy ass can't get out of your own damn seat to help them or you don't work out very much these days."

His glare hardened at my words.

"You better give me your stuff, you little brat!" He exclaimed. "Just because you've been in the streets longer than me doesn't mean you can deny me when I'm telling you to hand your stuff over." He put his hands on his hips, almost like a super hero of sorts. "I'm bigger than you and I know I'm older than you," He was actually right about something, "so that means I have authority over you!"

"Actually, it doesn't, and I have every right to refuse giving away my stuff," I retorted in a calm tone, taking another bite of the apple. "Just because you make yourself look tough by gorging yourself in food doesn't make you a leader. You need to know the streets like I do, scout the areas, and over all know your surroundings like the back of your hand." I paused as I swallowed the apple. "I know nearly every single nook-and-cranky about this city, and I've survived this long by using that knowledge. But...it doesn't really matter to me. The only thing I care about is surviving on my own until I'm old enough get some sort of job, go through school, and live out my life as a citizen of Haven City." At those words, everyone, including the head honcho kid, started laughing hysterically. My face did not change expression at the sudden reaction, but on the inside I was becoming really irritated. "Any particular reason why you find it so funny?"

"You actually want to get a job?" The dark haired kid laughed. "T-that's the funniest thing I've ever heard in my life! What a loser!".

I raised an eyebrow, ignoring the comments coming from the other boys who agreed with their supposed leader, before shaking my head and said, "At least I plan to have a life, unlike you and your cronies."

"J-just stop, this is too funny!" He continued to laughing before walking over to me. "Now be a good little girl and hand over that bag of yours so we can be on our way." He started to reach over to grab my bag, but he did not realize I had finished my apple rather quickly until he found my hand gripping his wrist tightly. He yelped a bit as I applied some pressure onto it, forcing the other kids to stop laughing and stare at the scene before them. "Gah! Hey, let me go!" He shouted, trying to break free but to no avail.

My eyes narrowed more, frustrated to a point where I did not want to deal with him any longer..

"I don't think so," I responded in a harsher tone. "If you think you can just waltz over to me and take my bag when I specifically told you no, you can think again. I'm not going to allow some sleazy fatso to take my stuff when I need it much more than you do."

He growled at me.

"You little brat!" He snapped before grabbing the front of my hoodie with his free hand. In that instant, I grabbed his wrist that held onto my hoodie and applied some more pressure. Without even thinking, I found knocking the kid off his feet, tripping him, and slamming him onto the ground. He did not get hurt badly, but he was enough to knock him out cold for a bit and possibly create some bruises. His crew gasped at the sight before looking at me. I seemed to be wearing a somewhat surprised look.

"Wow," I muttered, looking at my hands for a moment. "I didn't even know I could do that…" I smiled. "Maybe I'm getting my dad's strength."

"She took him down!" One of the kids exclaimed. I glanced over to find several of them pulling out weapons. "Get her!"

With that, the kids holding weapons began charging at me. I watched them for a long moment before sighing.

"Idiots," I muttered as one of them swung his weapon at me. Looks like those books about fighting are going to pay off...

Before it could strike me with the object, I quickly took hold of it - a long, cylinder, bronze colored pipe - and kicked him right in the stomach to push him away. He accidentally released it as I did that, and I used my newly acquired weapon to block another attack from one of the other kids. I parried the weapon out of my way before spinning a bit and connecting my weapon with his side. He cried out in pain as he fell to the floor, gripping his injured and soon-to-be bruised side. Without breaking a sweat, I took down a few of the other kids with either a blow from my weapon, a few punches to the face or a kick to the stomach. Oddly enough, I was winning the fight against them, despite it being terrible odds. My experience with fighting, however, was one of the major reasons I was even able to hold my own against so many "fighters," so to speak. Then again, I realized that I was talking about the people who laughed at her for wanting a job; they probably thought it would be hysterical to actually read a book.

One by one, each kid who chose to try and take me down dropped to the ground like flies after entering an electrical trap. No doubt they would find bruises on their faces later on, but that was something I cared very little about. Those who were still conscious after I knocked them to the ground simply lied on the floor, gripping their stomachs and sides in pain from my kicks and attacks from my weapon. The other kids, who chose to watch from the sidelines, eventually began to flee from the scene, not wanting to be next in line to be taken out like their friends before them. To me, it only showed just how trustworthy and how well formed their group really was in the end. In a way, I almost felt bad for them; to be a part of a group that would not even help one another was not a group to be a part of. Unfortunately, there was no other place they could go. As I knocked out the last of the attackers, I wondered if this was how it had been for a long period of time, that they were incapable of defending one another if it meant getting hurt themselves.

Panting a bit in order to catch my breath, I scanned the group of kids that lied on the ground, groaning and writhing in pain. Much to my surprise, none of them actually started to cry like babies as I had partially anticipated, but simply lied there. For that, I gave them some respect, but it was not enough to earn it all. Staring at the weapon I took away from the first kid, I looked over briefly, contemplating on whether or not I should hold onto it for the future. Despite the fact that such an encounter was very unlikely, it would not be bad to at least hold onto it in case of emergencies. With that in mind, I nodded to myself and gripped it tighter. Better to be safe than sorry.

"I should kill you for doing that to me..."

I blinked at the weakened voice of the main kid. After a moment, I looked over to find him trying to move, gripping his head from what I did to him. Despite that, I could see his green eyes glaring at me. Instead of just leaving him there, I turned around and made my way over to him, stepping over the still groaning children, before stopping right in front of his head. My free hand fell into the pocket of my hoodie and rested there, while the other hand continued to hold onto the pipe. The boy's eyes followed me the whole time, the glare still eminent in his eyes. I chose not to glare at him, finding it very childish that he would do it just because he was knocked out. Instead, I simply gave him a blank expression and shrugged in response to his words.

"You should kill me," I spoke, "but I don't think you have the strength or the guts to try."

He smirked.

"Then I'll get my boys to take you down," he said. "They'll do anything I tell them to, and they certainly won't hesitate!"

Blinking, I looked around for a moment, looking over the unconscious (or partially conscious) bodies of the boy's friends, before looking back at him.

"You mean the ones lying on the ground around us," I questioned, "or the ones that left you hear to fend for yourself?"

"Don't worry," he answered confidently. "They'll be back. They would never leave their boss and comrades behind like this." His smirk grew. "Trust me. You'll be sorry when they get back!" My eyes narrowed a bit, more out of pity than anger. The fact that he was so keen on believing his friends would return kind of saddened me. He truly believed that, despite his supposed friends abandoning him, they would come back with more. That, or at least come back to help. In reality, there were probably never coming back, and if they were, they would never be able to answer why they ran off the way they did.

Sighing, I raised my weapon in a way that looked as if I were going to stab him. His eyes widened at the sight, that look of fear crossing his eyes, just before he shut them. I stood there holding it above him for another moment, watching him quiver in fear over the possibility of being killed, before swiftly bringing it down. Instead of connecting to his face and ending his life, it landed a mere few inches from the side of his head, burrowing into the ground and remaining stagnant. When he realized he was not dead, he opened his eyes just as I dropped to one knee, my hand remaining on the pipe. My eyes remained connected to his, but were filled with intensity and seriousness.

"Look," I spoke as if I were an adult sterning talking to a child. "I'm only going to tell you this once, so don't you forget it. Just because you send your boys out to take me down doesn't make you look good. It makes you look like a coward for not fighting your own battles. Not only that," I removed my hand from my pocket and threw my thumb over my shoulder to the other boys as well as those who left, "but your so called friends aren't coming back for you, not after what happened today. For all they know, they think you're a goner. That only shows how cowardly they really are and how much they really care about you."

I paused for a moment as my free hand fell upon my raised knee. "Although you've been a nuisance for trying to steal my stuff, oddly enough, I see potential in you. I can tell you look like someone who has been through a lot since you ran away from your home. At least, I'm assuming you ran away, but I don't know." My eyes glanced away. "I didn't go through much, to be honest. I'm not going to lie about that. In fact, the only reason I'm still wandering the streets like this is because I don't have a family to go to anymore. My mother is dead, and my father and sister have disappeared from the city. Only the Precursors know what happened to them. I'm on my own now, and I do things on my own without anyone's help." I closed my eyes briefly. "However, I vowed to make something of myself instead of remaining on the streets for the rest of my life."

I looked at him again. "As much as I really don't like you right now, I don't want that to be your future, either. You don't have to listen to me if you don't want to, but hear me out right now. You look like someone who could actually make something out of his life, but instead you're too upset about your past to think so. You think it'll hold you back from doing something you've always wanted to do. What that is I don't know, but I'm sure you know." I paused for a moment to let my words sink into his head. "I want you to do me a favor, kid. Forget about your past. What happened back then is done, there's nothing you can do to change it. I want you to do something with your life besides wasting it in the streets, as if your life was just trash. You deserve more than living like this, so why don't you stop having people do your work for you and fight your own battles, figure yourself out, and live your life the way you want to?"

With those words spoken, I picked up my pipe and got to my feet. The kid just stared at me, his mouth ajar in shock as I turned around and began walking away from him. Clearly, my words struck him to his core, much to my liking. Nevertheless, every word I had spoken to him was completely and undeniably true. I had to get the facts through his thick skull so he could understand what he had to do to actually be something in life instead of some low life kid in the streets. He had to know he could not live in the streets, and that he could make something out of himself. He thought he was a big shot going around stealing from other kids, but it was not good on his image at all. I felt he would be better off if he tried to at least do something, anything, to try to make a better life to live. As much as he bothered me and attempted to attack me just for the food and the stuff I had on me, I still felt a little bad for the way his life had turned out. He may not have been on the streets for as long as I had, but it probably was hard to leave his home behind. Then again, I had no clue what his past was like, so I could not say for sure if he actually took off or was abandoned.

"Wait…" I stopped walking and turned my head toward the kid, who was now lying on his stomach and lifting himself off the ground. He looked up at me for a long moment, before smiling a bit. "Jacob…"

I raised an eyebrow at him.

"Excuse me?" I spoke in a questioned tone.

"My name...is Jacob," he said, "and I think understand what you mean. In a way, you're right. Living in the streets isn't what I wanted, but it felt like the only option I had left. I just...I just thought it was the easiest way to live." His head lowered. "I ran away from home because I felt pressured by my parents. They...they always told me to do this and that in order to become something I didn't know a lot about. They wanted to live their lives through me, and I couldn't take it. I thought...maybe living by myself would better, and at first it was...but..." He looked at me again. "You tell me there's a lot more to life than just living life in the streets, that I can actually take control of my destiny if I want to. I may just be a kid, but just looking at you and seeing how you act it means have can have the same free will to make my own decisions."

He smiled a bit and said, "I guess the only real reason I never really decided to get away from this life was because I didn't think anyone would believe in me. No one would think I had a chance. But you do. You can actually see that in someone like me, and you're one of the few people I know who thinks that way. I guess I just haven't been around the right people to get that feeling." His smile grew. "I guess I should say...thanks...and I hope we meet again someday."

I stared at him intently, letting his words sink into my mind. I was quite surprised to find my words had gone through someone as stubborn and leader like as him. To be honest, it made me give him a little credit and some respect. Despite his first impression, he was filled with the confidence to move on from the life he lived, but his friends and the life he lived was what held him back for the past year. He felt like he did not have enough motivation to actually get away from it, and felt like no one believed in him. He actually took my words to heart and told himself that he did have enough strength to get out of the streets like I planned and create his own path to happiness. Even though he had been viewed a role model for the few who may have looked up to him, he still felt empty on the inside. After what had happened today, I could see in his eyes that he was ready to move on. Maybe he would be able to convince those who looked up to him to follow right behind. When I thought about it, it made me feel I had done a chain of good deeds simply by using words to change the mind of a stubborn young boy who had nothing but the clothes on his back.

I stood there for a long moment, staring into his green eyes, before smiling a bit in return. Maybe we weren't so different.

"That sounds like a plan, Jacob…" I said, turning away from him a bit.

He smirked mischievously.

"Who knows?" He responded as I began walking away from him. "Maybe I'll become stronger and beat you when we meet up again…"

I smiled at his words and simply waved my hand as if brushing it off.

"Maybe…" I called back. "But then again, maybe not…"/i


"That's…very interesting…" said an intent looking Casey as she leaned against the wall of my cell. I sat on the cold hard bed as I watched her just as seriously, watching as she took in the words of my story. "I almost...half expected you to beat up little kids in the street as a child…"

I rolled my eyes at the teasing comment, but refused to smile.

"It was not exactly one of the things I wanted to do that day when I had just gotten food for myself," I explained, "but they were annoying me, so I had to teach them a lesson."

She crossed her arms over her chest and sighed.

"But here's my question," she started, "you tell me a bit about your time on the streets, and then suddenly bring up...Jacob character." She paused a moment. "What does he have to do with it your relationship with Erol?"

I sighed, placing my chin in my hands, and answered, "He introduced Erol to me when we were young, even though he didn't exactly introduce him to me…" She raised an eyebrow in confusion, silently asking me to explain myself a bit further. When I noticed that expression, I went on. "What I mean is it looked as if we had just met on the streets out of nowhere…when in reality Erol knew about me long before I knew anything about him."


"Hey!" I stopped in my tracks at the new and unfamiliar voice that had entered my ears. It had been a while since I heard a voice that was speaking directly to me; the last time was two months prior, back when I had met Jacob and his gang. I was not really sure how to react to it, since it was a long time since I had a real conversation that did not involve an all out brawl in the streets. As if he sensed that, he spoke again. "I'm not going to hurt you, but I wanted to get the chance to meet you." When I heard that sentence, I relaxed a bit, yet remained vigilant, before slowly glancing over my shoulder a bit and spotting the owner of the voice. It was a young boy, at least three years older than I was, with oddly flaming colored hair and amber eyes. He did not wear much from what I saw; just a regular white shirt, sweat pants, and shoes, though his shirt seemed to have a few black spots on it.

I raised an eyebrow at him with wonder filling my eyes and I asked, "What brings you out in the streets of Haven? You look to have better things to do than meet a street girl like me."

He chuckled.

"No, not really," he responded truthfully. "I was just strolling around the city when I spotted you from afar, and I recognized you as the girl who beat up my friend two months ago."

I blinked a few times and raised my eyebrows, recalling the event that had taken place two months back, as I turned toward him a little more before asking, "You mean…you know...Jacob?"

He nodded once.

"That I do. In fact, he's my best friend," he explained to me. "Known each other for a couple years, until he disappeared and reappeared on the streets." His face lowered a bit. "Poor guy didn't know what he was looking for. Not until now, though."

"Until...now?" I inquired curiously.

He looked at me.

"Now, whenever I see him, all he talks about is changing his life into something better for himself, but has no clue as to what to do." I smiled a bit, remembering him saying something along those lines ,as the boy continued, "I asked him why he changed so suddenly, and he told me about all about you." He paused a moment. "If I am correct, he talked about a 'girl who single-handedly took down his boys without even breaking a sweat.'" He chuckled at the thought. "I couldn't help but laugh at him, but he said he wasn't kidding. Eventually, before he left, he said if I tried to look for you I should keep an eye out for either a black hood, green bangs, or blue eyes." He paused before smiling. "I must have found you, since I am looking at all three."

I shook my head a bit before turning to face him completely.

"It seems you have," I said as I pulled off my hood, revealing my jaw length blond hair along with my green bangs and azure - not "blue," as he had referred to them - colored eyes. "It surprised me that he hasn't forgotten what I had said to him."

He stared at me for a long moment before smiling.

"I think it's hard to forget the one person who changed his life." He pointed out, to which I laughed a bit. When I stopped, he suddenly asked, "What's your name? Jacob regrets not asking for your name, but could remember what you looked like if he saw you."

I looked at the sky for a moment before looking back at him.

"Ciara," I replied. "My name is Ciara." He smiled, as if he was happy to have learned my name for his friend. "What about you, friend of Jacob? What's your name supposed to be?"

He was taken aback by the title I had given, but instead of questioning, he simply crossed his arms over his chest and said, "Call me Erol."

I blinked as I replayed his name repeatedly in my head, making sure I did not forget it. It was something rather different, yet it was also suited for him. I was not sure why, but I just assumed it was appropriate. After a moment, I smiled lightly and said, "Unusual name," He frowned a bit at that, while I chuckled and continued to say, "but I like it. Makes you different...kind of like your hair."

He rolled his eyes and muttered out loud, "How did I know you were going to make a comment about my hair?"

I laughed a bit at that and answered, "Just a hunch, I guess…"


"After that, we just got to talking a little bit more, and I started to become a bit more comfortable around him," I went on, staring at my hands as well as the necklace in my right hand. "We talked about anything and everything we could think of off the top of our heads." My head lowered a bit. "Eventually, the sun started to fall, and I realized it was getting late for the both of us. Just before we parted ways, though, he asked me if I wanted to come with him and live with his family…"

"Seriously?" Casey asked, pushing herself off the wall a bit out of surprise. "Erol asked you to live with him already?"

I rolled my eyes at Casey's brightened expression.

"Yes, yes he did," I responded dully. "And since I was young and still had the desire to get off the streets...I said yes…"

"You've gotta be kidding me!" She placed a hand on her face. "That's crazy! And how old were you?"

"At least eight or nine years old…"

"Sweet mother of the Precursors!"

"Hey, it was a second chance for me! I decided to take that chance and live my life!" I paused as I came back to reality, leaning back a bit in my seat. "I thought…I thought he could help me accomplish that dream I had…but…"

Casey looked at me, tilting her head to one side. "But what?"

I looked back at her, stared down at my Wastelander attire, and looked back at her. The look in my eyes, despite trying to hide it, had a sense of pain in them. It was hard not to hide it all when thinking on the past.

"Look at me," I told her, raising my arms a bit as if I were presenting myself as a sacrifice. "Does it look like he's helped me at all?"

"It sounds like he did at one point," Casey pointed out, walking over to me and placing a hand on my shoulder armor, "but things changed as time went on. That's just a natural part of life."

I sighed and looked away from her.

"I know that, but..." My head lowered a bit, "but the change he went through...it doesn't look like the Erol I knew back then..." I looked up a bit toward the wall. "But that's a story for another day." I paused as I looked at her. "It's getting late. You should go get some rest. You have a lot to talk about tomorrow…"

She smiled, pat my shoulder lightly and began making her way to exit.

"I'll tell you what Erol thought about that day if you'd like," she said as she turned around and started punching numbers in to shut the door. "Not only that, but I might get some information about Jacob for you, just so you know what he's up to these days…"

I lied down on the cold bed, placed my hands behind my head and shut my eyes.

"I would be very grateful…" I paused and smiled, "…Casey."

She looked at me with a surprised expression just as the doors started to close, but I could sense a smile appear on her face seconds later.

"So we're on a first name basis, huh?" She questioned mischeviously.

I shook my head, but kept my eyes closed.

"Don't push your luck, woman."

She sighed, muttering a "Moment gone…" just as the doors closed and just as I drifted off to sleep, awaiting tomorrow a lot more than I expected.