Hopefully everyone enjoys the story,! I just edited the first chapter so far, I may or may not continue to revise each chapter, I am generally a Busy Betty.

Disclaimer: I don't own any of Meyer's stuff.

I guess I was a little fucked up, but could you blame me? Living on the streets for four years of your life would kind of make you be a little fucked up, don't you think? Stealing. Drugs. Sleeping on the streets or in Satan's Lodge.

It's hell, it's home, it's life. My horrible fucking life.

Although, it was kind of easy for me, my looks helping me for the most part, looking older than my actual age promoted the fact too. Wiggling my hips as I walked up to stranger's, pretending to ask directions even though I knew New York City like the back of my hand. I'd flick my hair behind my shoulders, bat my eyelashes a bit and it would put them into a little daze.

As I walk away, I would swipe their wallet out from their pocket. It was a gift. They could never feel my hand slip into their back pocket, it was like a piece of cake. I would only do this in a large crowd, where no one could see me and if someone did I would disappear into a crowd of people before they could say anything. Obviously, there are a certain type of people that you steal from.

Those snobby men and women, not that I get much luck out of women, that go around like they are the best damn thing. Those people, the ones who have all the money, but walk by and give you ten cents because the change makes noise in their purse. Lucky us, we can get a piece of bubble gum to fill our aching stomachs.

As for the drugs, I stayed away from those for most of my life. I don't know what people are mixing in the things they give me. I don't know what that cocaine is actually mixed with, I remember when I actually went to school, we were told to stay away from drugs and that's what I did. I stayed away from them. Mixing my street smarts with my knowledge from school, I learnt that nothing is what it seems here on the streets.

There isn't one person around that you can trust. I'm alone, forever. You stick to yourself, it's okay to have friends, but you have to be weary. The moment your back is turned, someone who thinks you have it good might take something from you.

Satan's Lodge, what a wonderful place. Long ago Satan's Lodge was a nice warehouse, an important place with rooms full of a heavy assortment of boxes. Up until some punk ass kids burnt the place down. Good thing they tried to burn it down, other wise I'd have no where else to go, none of us would. The city hasn't touched it since because of the homeless people in it. They try, but when they do we rebel and the city doesn't want a bunch of homeless sleeping in the street, regardless.

I guess protesting does have it's charms, but in the end it is not truly for the happiness of the people who reside in Satan's Lodge.

The place isn't comfortable, but where else is there to go? Sleeping outside in an alley way isn't a smart place for a sixteen year old girl to go.

It's no ones business why you are living on the street, no ones. Yours and yours only. Anything you say can and will be held against you. It feels as though no one knows what I'm going through in my life, I'm a fuck up. I don't even have a home to run back to, like I am told to by many pedestrians. I'm sure it is my fault I wasn't in a home now, I am a fuck up. I've said that once, I'd say it again. I'd say it over and over until someone cut out my tongue.

I don't even know where the beginning is. Was it when I was first born? What about when I turned one? Or two, three, four? Was it any of those, or did I just react in the wrong sort of way. When my parents died, I was almost taken to an orphanage, but I ran away and I haven't seen a social worker since.

I don't know what the policy is for runaways or how it worked for their service, but I, obviously, was not an important priority.

I smirked looking at a man in the subway, waiting for the next train. He was wearing an expensive looking jacket that made my sweater look like trash, and let me tell you, my sweater was trash. His blonde hair was almost white it was so blonde, it curled near the side of his ears. I needed food though, so I swayed my hips walking over to him. He didn't need the money. Look at what he was wearing! He was flaunting his stuff. His money.

"Excuse me?" I asked, batting my eyelashes at him. My brown eyes sparkled when he caught my gaze and stared into them intensely, "Could you tell me where I am, exactly?" I asked in a hushed tone. Innocent, which I was not.

He quickly began to explain to me where I was, when he tilted his head to the side his eyes trailed up and down my body, I always felt a little subconscious when people did that. "Aren't you a little young to be by yourself?"

I knew I looked older than sixteen, I was just short. I barely stood 5'2 and I was sure I wasn't growing anymore. "No, I'm old enough. Thank you for your advice sir." I nodded my head, walking away with my hands behind my back. In one swift movement I had snagged his wallet from his pocket, and put it into my own.

The smirk on my face grew. When I was out of the subway I noticed it was getting dark, I headed towards Satan's Lodge. I was going to grab something on the way back, something to fill my needs.

"Spare any money?" I heard a husky voice plead from a back alley. I cocked my head over seeing a man sitting against a wall, I took out of the wallet's I've taken today. A twenty, I could spare it. Other people needed this money too, I wasn't as needy as him. At least I could afford to feed myself for the night. I didn't pay rent, I didn't pay anything. "God bless you." He shook taking the money from my hand.

I smiled crookedly, "No problem."

I didn't know if I looked like a street bound kid, or if I looked like a normal one. Sometimes people would stare at me, but not all the time. My back pack hung on the side of my arm, like a purse, but not a purse. One of those mini back bags if you will. My baggy pants hang low on my thin, pointy hips, and the pant legs were so long they passed my shoes ripping more as I walked. Do regular teenagers wear clothes like this? My black tight shirt showed off my average sized cleavage, also I wore a big baggy, warm, and fuzzy sweater that I've had for years now, I even hand washed it in the washrooms when I got a chance. It was my father's, it's a surprise it still is a little big for me. My shoes were getting ratty and soon I was going to need new ones.

After grabbing a slice of pizza, it began to get dark outside so I decided it would be best if I headed towards to Satan's Lodge. After I ate my crust I hopped the fence, you don't waste anything around here, even if you don't like the crust. I climbed up the ladder into the not so abandoned warehouse to find a couple having sex on one of the beds. These people had no shame, you think I'd be bothered by it, or at least disturbed, but I wasn't. It was natural, especially here when you felt alone. Where you usually had no one.

It was a simple task to find someone who is nearly as lonely as you are and without a second to spare your clothes are thrown across the room while your naked bodies mesh together for more than just warmth, at this time only. However long it takes is dependent on the person but not long afterwards are you forgotten and on your own, surviving. The moans and grunts of the strangers brought me back into reality, this sick reality.

I felt my cheek twitch as I walked out of the room, I could hear them still even as I would walk further. Sometimes, you just had to deal with it, unless someone more powerful than you could make you shut the fuck up. It was unbelievable how many people share a room and deal with the others making love, or ever just a fun one night stand. People even let rape go by untouched, it's not right, but what can I do in a position where you nothing.

They aren't even thinking about the other people that have slept and sweat on the bed before you. "Erin." I heard a female voice call for me, again, drawing me out of my daze.

There were a couple of those people who played as your friends, people you talked to when you were bored, people you talked about your past with not knowing if they were telling the truth or not. No one cares what you are there for, they care if you're taking up space and you don't need it. Most of the people here didn't have anywhere to go. Whether it range from family problems, family deaths, dept, drugs, the usual. "Keisha." I nodded my head at the bubbly eighteen year old in front of me. She's been out here nearly as long as I had, just a little longer for me.

She's one of those people who don't need to be here, but come anyways. She's changed a lot form the beginning, she's been put in line.

She smirked at me, "How's it going? I haven't seen you around lately."

"Been down on the opposite side of the house." The house, also known as Satan's Lodge. It was more of a home than anything.

"Want to go out to a club?" Her eyebrow lifted higher. My gaze on her fuzzed as I watch someone walk out of a room. I've never seen him before, I knew everyone in these areas since I've been around for so long. "Can't get in, who's that?"

"New boy, Trev I call him. He's not right, like a narc." Her eyes narrowed, giving him a glare before turning back to face me. "You weren't much different when you arrived."

"What do you know? I'm older than you." She smirked, a glint of pride sparkling in her eyes.

I cocked my eyebrow, if she wanted to play that way I could. "I've been out here longer, the longer the wiser, not the older the wiser. My street knowledge is much greater than your own, you came out here of pure greed for yourself. I haven't come upon the reason you're still around, mommy and daddy are still waiting at home for you." I stared at her intensely, watching her jaw tighten.

Her eyes were full of fury, it reminded me of her flaming red hair. "I know a guy who makes I.D's." She dropped what I said instantly, she knew I was right.

I smirked at her rolling my eyes. "I look old for my age, but not twenty-one." I snorted rubbing the bridge of my nose. "People are stupid, stick it out or something."

"No, maybe another time, Keisha." I nodded walking into another room to escape her, she followed me, her determination visible in her face. "Why not?" She hissed.

"Because I don't want to, get lost so I can get some sleep." I hissed right back, stepping right in her face. She was taller than I am but she just continued to glare at me until finally taking a step back.

I threw my bag down. You had to keep you stuff close otherwise it wouldn't be there in the morning, no one cares because what you have is what you steal from other people, nothing actually belongs to you when you live around here.

I hugged my bag to myself as I lay on the lumpy bed. The springs digging into my back, I was used to it now. What I would give to sleep in a nice bed, one the didn't squeak every time you moved in it. I closed my eyes, forgetting about everything for the first time in thirty-one hours. It was only a matter of time before I would be back out on the streets, living my life and stealing for a living.

There is it. This isn't edited too much, but I have been bored while on break. Hope whoever read it enjoyed though:)