"Don't get in trouble this time, alright?"

"Yeah, Dad. I'm not a little girl, you don't have to worry about me going outside."

"It's not you I'm worried about, it's Chicago!" He joked.

"I'm sure Chicago will be fine," I laughed.


I sat down on a bench, waiting for the bus back to Grandma Nicky's house. One of my hands was deep in the pocket of my hoodie, while I scrolled through my unread e-mails on my smartphone with the other. I noticed someone taking a seat next to me.

"Hello." He said. His voice was gravelly and deep. I was a little surprised, because I wasn't used to strangers starting conversations with me.

"Hey." I replied, not taking my focus off of my phone.

"What's your name?" He asked.

"Lena." I was a little creeped out by the guy, but I felt like I could trust him for some reason. Probably not a good thing though.

"That's..." He paused, as if to think about what to say next. "A nice name."

I turned to see who I was talking to, but when I did, there was no one there.

The bus rolled in, and I stood up. The doors opened, and I noticed something a little strange.

The driver was pointing a gun at me.


"Are you going to shoot me? 'Cause if you are, we might as well get it over with."

"Look kid, if I was going to shoot you, I'd have done it a long time ago. You aren't exactly a good driving buddy."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"What that means, is if you don't shut up I'm gonna shoot you in the crotch!"

I shut up.

We were in one of the shadier parts of Chicago. The Back of the Yards, I think it's called. I'd heard rumors about this place. There were gangs here, people dying in the streets.

All in all, it wasn't on my top ten places to visit.


"Well, if it isn't Lena!"

"And who is it I have the pleasure of meeting today?"

"Roy's cousin. You really shouldn'ta messed with him. He's got connections. Gang connections. Viceroy connections." He pointed to himself with his thumb. "Me connections."

I laughed. "You think if I could take Roy, I can't take you too?"

"Well, maybe you could in a fair fight. Thing is..." He pulled out a small, metallic object that I guessed was a switchblade. "I don't play fair." He flicked his wrist, and the serrated blade flipped out. It was stained with blood.

I gulped. Definitely a switchblade.