A/N- Let's have a random song interlude! Random songs are fun!

At the drive in

In the old man's Ford

Behind the bushes

Until I'm screamin' for more

Down the basement

Lock the cellar door

And baby

Talk dirty to me.

Talk Dirty To Me- Poison

Chapter Four – History – Titus

I was back in juvie again. Ugh.

I hated this place, but really, you can't blame me. Yes, I'm a thief. And a pickpocket. But you know what else, my mother is an addict, and I need to get money for both of us. I can't get enough money for us both in an honest job, since she was incapable of working, and I haven't been in school since third grade, when I was kicked out for hitting a teacher.

It's a miracle that Child Services hasn't caught up to us yet.

Wait, scratch that. It was me. I was good. I could forge my mothers' signature without pause, could lie on the spot, and knew all the best ways to stay unnoticed. I knew these city streets like the back of my hand, knew all the back alleyways, weak spots, and sheltered areas. I knew the places where my mother could stay for a while, immoble as she was, until we had to move on.

But, if you are in the middle of a crowded shopping mall, easily snatching a wallet with practiced fingers, you're gonna get caught if out of nowhere you get shoved in the back by a shopper and fall on your victim.

If.

Not that that would ever happen to me. I was infallible.

Suddenly, I heard a boom somewhere in the building. The ceiling shook a little, and I took the initiative to escape, launching across the room with enough power to break the lock. I was pretty strong, but I must admit, this was a personal record.

I heard yells, accompanied by bullets, a pistol from the sound of it. I sprinted down the hallway, toward the noise. I was curious.

Hurtling around a corner, I skidded to a stop, surprised. There was a skinny girl with stringy hair and a twisted-up spine, firing at anybody close enough, meaning the security guards trying to subdue her. She was screeching, just screeching wordlessly, a sound full of fear and anger.

I turned and ran. I had never seen anything like this before, anybody so unnatural, so dead looking, and yet so alive. The girl was full of emotion and adrenaline. It had me scared silly.

After a minute or two, I found an office-like room that luckily had a window. I was able smash it and jump the ten-foot drop. I hit the ground running as fast as I could. Running the two miles to the city, until I rounded the crest of a hill about a quarter mile away and stopped in my tracks.

I was stunned. The city had been flattened. It looked like it had been bombed, the buildings all collapsed and in ruin, the smoke and ash lazily floating through the air. Cars were hollow shells, lying abandoned in the streets, and a few people wandered through the wreckage, looking lost.

I slowly sunk to my knees. What had happened? Thousands, killed. My home, the only place I knew, was up in smoke.

I let a single tear roll down my cheek, then slowly stood up, spun on my heel, and walked away in the opposite direction.