The Streets By Mark Elliott: Summary

The main character of the story is a man named Mark Elliott. He lives a lonely life in a hard city, with little mercy for the people who live within it. The city is dark and dirty but Mark accepts the world he lives in. One day, after Mark gets on the subway to go home he decides to not go home, but instead wander around the city for reasons he doesn’t even know. As he sits on the subway he sees a man get his wallet stolen and begins to think about what or who is important in this world. When he gets off the subway he lets his subconscious carry him into the dark city streets.
***
I didn’t know exactly where I was going, but I was walking and breathing and living, that's all that mattered anyways. The streets were dark and dirty like
Trash littered the street and the light to a rough looking bar flickered, as though it was barely functioning. This was no new sight to me, just another day in this God forsaken city. The dim streetlights glow showered a man as he stood under it. The man was tall and wore a trench coat stained with who knows what and a hat that covered his face. He waited under that street lamp for some time and I began to wonder whether he noticed me or not. I was well hidden behind the shadows where the lights did not reach. I don’t know why I watched him for so long, but as I was about to leave into the darkness he started to walk down the street at a brisk pace. The man looked like he knew where he was going, as he kept looking down at his wrist to what I assume was a watch. He was going somewhere and had to be there a certain time, no doubt. Maybe he was a drug dealer, but something was different about him. The way he carried himself made him seem like he was after something. So I followed him to an abandoned factory of some sort where he met up with a familiar face from the subway I had been on earlier. It was the pickpocket man, but this time he was much more talkative to his apparent
I wondered what to do, or even if I could do anything, but something inside me changed that moment. I began to care less about myself and more about someone I didn’t even know and I had no idea why. I guess it was time for me to stick up for somebody other than myself. So I quickly jumped through a broken window in the factory and followed the soon to be criminals. I followed them until I started to notice they were taking me back up to the subway which I had gotten off, what now seemed ages ago. I saw the familiar lights and sounds of the busy streets filled with club dwellers and drunks. I tried not to stick out, so I slowed my pace and moved with the crowds. I kept my eyes on the men I was following, as they walked up to a club called the Pink Lady. The type of club where the rich and luxurious partied til they dropped. If somebody was going to kill somebody for some money this would be the place to do it. I waited for them across the street until a lady in some expensive looking clothes walked out into the city streets. They didn’t immediately grab her but instead let her walk until she passed a nice looking dark alleyway, something more than ideal for someone about to be killed. That’s when the men took action. The pickpocket man grabbed her by the arms and the other man grabbed her by the head and put his hand over her mouth. This is when I decided to play my part as a