We're Here For A Reason [Ella]

I smile and let out a sigh of relief. The person who walked out in front of me is a girl who's my age. I look around and then back at her, trying to make out her face in the dark of the night. I can see she doesn't look surprised, she seems a bit judgemental. I open my picnic basket and pull out the first thing in it, it's a wool t-shirt. It's soft, warm, and red.

"Would you like to have this?" I ask her. I try to keep my voice as sweet as possible.

The homeless do not appreciate it when you talk to them as if they need your help. I've learned from experience that they prefer if you ask them if they would like your help. If they turn you down then you leave, no further questions asked. Some people prefer to get themselves out of situations without help. Others want all the help they can get. It really depends on the person.

And I don't know the type of person this girl is.

"Uh, no thanks. You probably need it more than I do anyhow." The girl says. A bit bluntly too. I look around awkwardly.

The night is nigh and the moon is shining down on us with full force. A full moon. The stars help to illuminate our introduction as we stand in a deserted street. I check for Peacekeepers. There are none so far. That's good. But one is bound to come soon, or else I'll be the luckiest girl alive. They check every street periodically for lurkers.

"No, I'm asking because I don't need it." I reply. "But anyways, what's your name? I'm Aba." I stuff the wool shirt back into the picnic basket and extend a friendly hand. Hoping she will shake it in return.

"Yes," I answer. "Just some stuff I made after work and felt like I should give away." I say it nonchalantly, as if it isn't a big deal. It is.

This girl preventing me from giving these clothes away. The later it gets the darker it gets, and the darker it gets the more suspicious the Peacekeepers get. Peacekeepers are a much bigger problem than most people make of it. It's almost as if they're intent on keeping everything the way it is. Nobody can get richer, nobody can stay up late. I guess that's sort of the meaning of Peacekeeping. But it seems the only thing they do allow is the poverty of the people they supposedly protect.

Before Bonnie can say anything, if she was even going to, a flashlight beam illuminates her face. And if she's standing in front of me, that means...

I quickly spin around and see two Peacekeepers. They point their flashlights right in my eyes, blinding me. Suddenly I hear them start shouting. They usually do that. But the thing that scares me, the thing that makes me run, is that I hear a gunshot.

And I don't think I've ever run that fast in my life.