---they say evil hides in disguise, Greyson!

[Reagan Grace Moretti]

if they come home they'll come home stronger

and if they don't you'll know

IN THE PAST
Reagan wiped down her last table for the night, it being near closing time. Her boss looked around, seeing if the restaurant was ready to lock up, and the employees started to clock out and head out to their cars, relieved they'd finally be able to go home after a long day of work. Reagan put the rag she'd been cleaning with back, aching to get off her feet and in front of her TV in her cozy, one-bedroom apartment. As she went to the back room to grab her purse she heard her boss mutter a curse and peered over the little employee lockers to see what he was up to. He caught her glance, and Reagan smiled sheepishly.

"Reagan, would you mind taking this trash bag out? I forgot to and my backs been killing me". Reagan smile turned weary "of course, boss". She took the bag from him and hefted over her shoulder, trying to ignore the odor. The two walked out together, said their goodbyes and good nights before her boss locked up and walked briskly to his car, no doubt wanting to get out of the humid weather. It had rained a few hours ago, so everything was still damp and icky. The sky was pitch black, but the lights from the city surrounding the cozy restaurant illuminated the darkness, and the sounds of passing cars filled the silence.

Reagan wished she had brought a jacket to cover her arms from the heavy weather. She wore the restaurant, slim fit t-shirt with the log across the right breast, black pants, and black converse. Standard work uniform. Her hair was in a neat ponytail, and her makeup was at a minimum. Typical Reagan- she never had much interest in beauty products, though she didn't really need it. Begrudgingly, she made her way to the dumpster that was located behind the restaurant in a narrow, dank alley. The smell and feel of the alley made her remember those horrible nights and days she spent sleeping under dumpsters and scavenging for food. They flooded into her, and she squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head to chase the memories away. That wasn't her life, not anymore.

Reagan lifted the lid of the dumpster, and breathed through her mouth as she tossed the bag in. She happily let the lid shut with a loud clang, and had the fright of her life. Not because of the racket she had caused, but because she now realized that there was a figure standing in the alley! "Jesus Christ!" she shrieked, hand grasping her shirt over her heart. She thought about running for it, having take s few steps back like she was going to, until she took a closer look at the form. It appeared...small. She squinted at the figure, her hand still clasped her shirt. She took a few steps forward, and realized that the figure huddled against the wall was indeed quite small and...childlike. Even though her heart still raced from the shock she'd received earlier she leaned forward timidly "H-hello?". Not one of her most eloquent explanations, but it would work for now.

[Greyson Anthony Hobbs]

The air was cold as Greyson huddled into the corner just trying to stay as warm as he could just recently making it into town, he seemed to like it better here than he did in the other places he came too. He hated going to different placed but for almost two years now that just seemed to be how his life worked out, he ran away from home just not being able to handle his parents anymore and he was just so scared of even trying to go back now. Besides his parents didn’t even bother to try and look for him so he doubted that they even cared that he was gone, to them he was probably just dead and besides he traveled so many miles. He grew up in the lower areas of California and ran away heading north all the way here to Seattle, now that he was here he had no idea where to even go next so for now this was just really where he was going to stay. He was only now fourteen, so he was even barely a teenager even now looking younger then he was. He was really still a boy and he already had to deal with so much in his life, things that no teenager should ever have to go through but with the lack of a good family here he was.

Greyson Hobbs lived on the streets, it wasn’t always that bad either, it had its days when he was able to find a good place to sleep and he actually was fed but other than that; things were pretty crummy and he was losing weight. He could tell simply by looking at himself and the fact his clothes were getting even slightly larger due to his lack of food, but food always just seemed so scarce so he just normally went without. He just looked like any other poor kid, with his dirty and torn clothes and the fear in his eyes. That fear always seemed to be there, not knowing if anyone would try and hurt him since he was just so young. There was so many people out there that would hurt a kid his age, and since he just looked so much younger he had so many reasons to fear.

That was why he jumped at pretty much every sound and jumping when he heard noises he pressed his back against the wall noticing he scared someone who was now standing there, “I-I didn’t m-mean to s-scare you” he stuttered almost scared his self. He just looked so fragile standing there the look of fear he had in his eyes, he just didn’t want to get hurt.

[Reagan Grace Moretti]

if they come home they'll come home stronger

and if they don't you'll know

IN THE PAST
Reagans job was pretty simple. Uneventful, really, though that doesn't mean it wasn't fun- the most exciting things that happened were when costumers at the bar became a little to rowdy, but the restaurant she worked at wasn't the type of place people came to party and get entirely wasted. Just a few calming drinks with dinner or after work, but then again, that never stopped people from trying to turn it into a club. No, Reagan had been enjoying her job for the past two years, the danger and fright of the job at a minimum. It was no wonder the situation before her was such a surprise. She squinted at the darkness until her eyes adjusted, and was completely caught off guard by what she saw. It wasn't shocking to see the homeless in Seattle, but a such a young teen? To Reagan he could still have been a baby for all that mattered.

"No no, its alright. What are you..what are you doing out here? Shouldn't you be home? In bed?" Reagan said in a voice that was hopefully soothing and caring. She didn't want to scare the boy, for she already suspected the reason why he was sleeping in a dank alley near the restaurants dumpsters. Although she had the sneaking suspicion he was a runaway, and hated it for him, she hoped that he just got lost and could be returned home safely. But why would a kid sleep around in alleys instead of looking for help? Reagan knew the answer without even having to think about it- she'd seen this all before. Hell, she'd lived it, and probably wasn't but a few years older than the boy when she ranaway. She had seen plenty of homeless and runaways as well, and the memories came flooding back to her.

Reagan had escaped from northern California when she'd been about fifteen or sixteen, and hadn't had a real home for years. She'd been lucky enough to find others that she would help and be protected by in Oregon, though that had been luck, and nothing more. She recalled the street kids, all with bad reputations but good hearts, and got that loving feeling she did when ever she thought about them. She wished she knew where they were now, but hadn't spoken with them in what seemed like ages. After they put her back on her own two feet, Reagan had traveled on her own all the way to Seattle, and was able to settle at the age of eighteen. Only about two years ago did she quite her job at the mechanics shop and started waitressing. When she reflected on her past, Reagan could honestly say she had been pretty damn fortunate for a young runaway, but all the same she found nothing fortunate about the whole experience.

Reagan took a step towards the boy, away from the dumpster, and smoothed her hands on her pants thoughtfully. What on earth does she do now? Honestly, she had spent so much time as a runaway, but she didn't know what to do when confronted with them. She knew better then anyone that he probably didn't runaway just because he couldn't get his way with something or was rebelling against his parents. Reagan herself had runaway because she had been tormented by bullies at school, and beaten by her father at home. Then again, the boy could not be runaway or homeless, and she could be overreacting. She bit her lip in indecision. "Should I call the police...?" she wondered out loud.

[Greyson Anthony Hobbs]

Greyson was clearly too young to work, being only fourteen and he even looked younger then he was and he knew even if he was old enough to get a job the actually getting one part was going to be really difficult since he hardly stayed in one place for very long. He tended to just drift off to anywhere he seemed fit for a while and when he felt like it was time to head elsewhere he did, it was sorta a routine but being here he just decided to stay. Since his health was slowly failing and getting worse always moving around would just start to really affect him and he was just sure that he wouldn’t be able to even stand that anymore.

Looking at Reagan he looked down when she asked him why he wasn’t at home, “what home” he mumbled under his breath looking up. “I don’t have a home” he added his voice like always quiet and even a little unhappy, why would he be happy when he just been on the run for two years and ended up right here in Washington. He had no reason to even be happy, it was such a seemingly foreign feeling to him that he was even just uncertain about and he just seemed to think he would never truly feel it. He was dying, he knew that much. His parents back in California seemed to hate him, he had no idea why but it just seemed that way.

Just in the way they acted he came to that simple conclusion and it upsetted him a lot, “no please don’t do that” he said quickly shaking his head. “They’d call my parents and that just can’t happen, not now, not when I’m like this. Oh please” he just kept shaking his head standing there, he sure looked pretty awful, but that was Greyson for you. He knew if she called the cops they would send him to the doctors, and if they did that he was certainly going to the hospital. He even just looked sick.

[Reagan Grace Moretti]

if they come home they'll come home stronger

and if they don't you'll know

IN THE PAST
Reagans heart sank as her suspicions were confirmed. No home, obviously no place to go. The situation was just so familiar. To familiar. She wrapped her arms around herself in a hug, the cool Seattle air making her wish, yet again, she'd brought a jacket from home. It was probably much worse for the teenager, she realized. She wanted nothing more then to get him out of the cold. "Oh...I'm...I am so sorry..." her words were small, and sincere. She didn't know the boy, but didn't think anyone deserved to be casted out on the streets, alone. She frowned down at her shoes before looking up again "Would you like to come into the restaurant? You'd be warmer, and I could get you something to eat" She'd hoped silently he'd take the earnest offer, though she knew better then to expect to immediately gain his trust. As a runaway, she'd been extremely skeptical of most people. Still was, even, though she now was more willing to try and see the good in everyone.

Reagan found the situation upsetting, for she kept reliving when she'd been in the boys shoes. She was a compassionate person, feeling that everyone should be treated, and treat others, with care. She wasn't superwoman though, and didn't have the ambition to help everyone she possibly could in Seattle, or anywhere she went. This, however, was to close to home. She thought again about the street kids, who'd been so sure about taking her under their wing, and how Reagan, desperate and tired, had excepted graciously. It was one of those rare moments of hope she'd experience during her childhood, and decide then that she would do anything to help the boy. She just didn't know how.

Reagan looked down and sighed. Of course he didn't want to call the cops. She'd expected an answer like that, but had fruitlessly hoped the predicament could have been settled easily. She looked back up at the boy, a look of understanding over-whelming her features. "Don't worry, I won't call. But I just can't...leave you here" she mused. She wondered what his parents could have possibly done to get him to want to leave, and not come back. Despite the real, cold world he had faced so far. He looked so frightened, sickly even. She gave him a comforting smile that was still filled with just a twinge of sadness "You can call me Reagan" she said, deciding he'd may as well know her name now. She wasn't giving up on him that easily.

[Greyson Anthony Hobbs]

The cold air stung at Greyson’s cheeks turning them slightly pink from the cold air, hugging his self he shivered shrugging his shoulders. “It’s been two years now so it doesn’t make any difference now anyways, my parents didn’t want me so I left and now I’m here” Greyson said quietly staring down at the ground when he spoke. Two years was a really long time to be all alone on the streets, and looking as young as he did he was surprised that he even lasted that long. The boy survived mostly by sleeping where ever he could find somewhere and eating whatever, it was a hard life but it was his life and he just learned to deal with the life he had. He question made him blink slightly looking at her, “you’d get in trouble if you did that and I don’t want you getting in trouble” he shook his head even though he knew that he didn’t eat much for the last few days. He was use to it, he could deal with a few days more as long as she didn’t get in trouble.

Greyson coughed, remembering the days he spent in the middle of nowhere just trying to stay warm. It was really hard when you had nowhere to go and sometimes the weather was just unpredictable and even more than once he had found his self in the pouring rain being sick the very next day, it had been a difficult life but it had been his life and he was just so use to living it that it didn’t quite even bother him anymore. He just seemed to deal with things as they came, and that was all he could really do to keep his self alive. He did whatever he had to, no matter what it was but he still tried to stay a kid and not one of those brats’ people seemed to hate. That was the last thing that Greyson wanted to be, he was just himself, and he was just Greyson.

“I’m Greyson, Greyson Hobbs actually” Greyson said quietly looking at Reagan for a moment. “I’m well I’m fourteen, as you can probably tell I’m still sorta young” Greyson assed quietly just sighing. A fourteen year old did not belong on the streets and he knew that, but anywhere was better than home, he could deal with being on the streets for a little longer really.