Mistakes

Chapter One

Pic Above is Mac!

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"Come on Lis. It's time to close up shop." The bartender said to her in a slightly annoyed tone.

Lisa raised a brow before shrugging and downing the last of her drink. Grabbing her leather jacket she pulled it on and stepped out into the bustling streets. She normally didn't use her fake I.D., well normally she didn't have to use it, having grown into the look of a woman quite suddenly last summer, but tonight was a special occasion. She was finally leaving the slums of Chicago. She'd been here for little over six months, working at some hole in the wall Diner called Brita's Barista. It was a stupid name and the owner's name wasn't even Brita, but they paid her under the table and never asked for any "Official" documentation other than an I.D. and even that they didn't really check or they would have likely been able to tell it was a fake.

Inhaling the smog that permeated the city air she decided then and there that she was going to head southeast, she wanted to be able to enjoy a little more nature, a little less hustle and bustle. She'd made enough money to be able to make it a couple of states before having to stop again. This was Lisas' routine. Ever since deciding that she was leaving "Home" three years ago. She had made it to Chicago from the middle of nowhere, well perhaps the outskirts of the middle of nowhere. Somewhere near Shelby Montana doing exactly what she was doing now. Hitching a ride as far as she can go with what little money she had then stopping and finding work until she could afford to leave again.

Lisa never made it more than a couple of states before she had to stop again but it was either hitchhike the way she had been doing it or walk the streets for money. Sure she'd make more money, and fast too, but Lisa refused to go down that road. No matter what happened to her. She'd seen what it had done to the other street rats she had encountered. Hollow, dead eyes, broken in ways that they would never be able to fully recover from. Bruises and cuts from over eager clients or angry pimps. It wasn't the life that she wanted. Making her way to the old abandoned factory that she called home since living here in Chicago she ran into one of the other street urchins that stayed there as well.

"What's up Mac?" Lisa called out in greeting.

Mac was one of the boys in the group. At sixteen years old he already looked like a grown man. Mac and Lisa had become fast friends when she first arrived at Chicago. He could tell she wasn't from there and took her back to the factory. Lisa knew of all the kids that stayed there, he would be the one that she missed the most.

"Lis! What's up?" Mac greeted giving her a hug.

"Nothing much. Just finished up at Lou's. You headed back to the Factory as well?" She asked.

Mac nodded his shaggy bright red hair. His dirty face looking solemn and hard with a shadow of a beard that would be wiry if he let it grow in. He was bigger too, hard muscle, coiled under his black t-shirt. Life on the streets would do that to you. However despite his rough appearance his ever changing hazel eyes were the things that stood out on him. They held a spark of life that always seemed to draw you in. Even out here. Lisa sometimes thought that perhaps it was the streets that kept that spark in Mac. Like he would never really be able to fit into normal society.

They walked back in relative silence. Only speaking here and there about the going ons of the other kids in the factory. Most were like Mac, pickpockets, or had dead end jobs, like Lisa, so they could feed themselves. Some were dealers or streetwalkers. It was a hard life being a street rat, but it was the only life any of them really knew. Just as they reached the sad broken structure that served as their home since before Lisa had even arrived, Mac tugged her to a halt. His face, even more solemn than usual.