Being a teenager, it wasn’t exactly the best.

Currently, you’re sat on the bridge. You wanted to escape the hellhole you lived in. Your father was abusive, and your mother was dead. You had no where else to go, no one else to rely on, no one to ask for help.

The 141 was on their way to a mission, driving in the truck until Price slammed on the breaks. “Jesus christ! Bloody hell was that, Price?!” Soap yelled, grabbing onto the seat.

“There’s some kid on that bridge.” Ghost grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Let’s go then, can’t leave the lass on her own.” Gaz said as he spoke up, getting out of the truck.