Offer her some money

You feel so sorry for this poor little girl. She has to live on the streets and must be so hungry that she is willing to fight for bread that somebody has thrown away. You live in luxury in your father’s home and even when you lived with your mom, you never had to be hungry or alone. Seeing her makes you fight with tears. You can’t look away from this. That’s not how you were raised.

You have enough money to give her something. You pull out a twenty dollar note from your wallet and offer it to her. It is not much, but enough for her to afford food for a week. Maybe even longer, considering how small she is.

“Hey, little one, I have something for you,” you say calming and show her that you are not armed, “you must be very hungry if you what to eat that. You can buy food with this. Healthy food.”

“Why are you offering me so much money?” the girl asks suspicious but at least less hostile, “the gangs never give me so much money if I work for them. What do you want in return?”

“I want you to eat and survive,” you answer and take a deep breath, “I’m not from here and I have enough. Please take this and buy some real food.”

The girl watches you suspicious. She comes closer but always ready to jump back and defend herself. You stay absolutely calm. For some reason this situation remembers you at a visit in the petting zoo, when your mother encouraged you to feed a shy sheep. The girl is now close enough to take the money. She quickly snaps it out of your hand and immediately backs off in case you try to grab her. But since you remain calm and not dangerous, she begins to relax a little.

“I’m still going to eat this,” the girl says still skeptical and takes her leaf of bread back in her arm, “there are people in the area who would not hesitate to hurt me to get it.”

You don’t say anything to this. You hoped she would leave the hard bread behind now that she can afford a real meal. But at least she is not hostile towards you anymore. She still watches you suspicious, but that’s all. The girl sits down on the dirty ground and breaks a piece of bread from the leaf. As you expected, it is as hard as a rock. Still, the girl nibbles hungrily on it.

“Do you mind if I sit with you?” you ask and look for a mostly clean spot to sit.

“Why?” the girl asks, “if you are not from here, you better go back to where you belong. You don’t want to stay here longer than necessary.”

“I would like to talk to you, if you don’t mind,” you say friendly, “you live here for so long. I would like to know how living here is.”

The girl looks unsure, but finally offers you a place opposite to her. You notice she keeps her knife in reach. You sit down, even if it ruins your clothes and watch her eating the hard bread. The silence between you two is uncomfortable, but you are not sure how to start.

“What work are you doing for the gangs?” you finally ask carefully, “and for which gangs. Only if you want to tell me of course.”

“The >Gray Snakes< and the >Hermanos< sometimes hire street kids like me for errands,” the girl says and bites another piece of bread, “disposable cell phones, baking soda and other things that can be used to cook ****. It's legal, normally. And most cops leave kids alone. The Urban Amazons are also often looking for workers. Mainly to clean their labs and hideouts or to deliver news. Big C's bastards don’t pay for helpers. They have ... permanent helpers.”

“I understand the gangs rule this part of the town,” you say gently, “you seem to know a lot about them.”

“You learn who is behind your money and who is behind your life if you grow up here,” the girl says and sighs, “you are nice and will not get along here very long. I give you an overview. The four most powerful gangs are the ones I already named. The gray snakes are Asian guys and even a few girls. They rule over the area around the docs. The hermanos are black and Latino guys. I don’t know what a latino is, but they speak strange. They are in charge of the living area, including where we are at the moment. Did you saw their guys at the main street? We are at the border actually. The Urban Amazons are mostly woman. They have the community center and some parts of the living area. They are … not nice but at least fair. They let others do their stuff as long as it isn’t against their agenda. And they told me I’m too young to join. But the biggest territory, including almost the entire industrial park, is in the hands of Big C’s bastards. That’s really their name. Stay away from them! They are the worst. And they don’t take woman in their ranks. Only to play with them. I’m not sure what they play but I assume it is not monopoly. You better avoid them and their territory completely.”

For a moment you almost laugh. Considering how much this girl knows, you almost forgot how young she is. You better not tell her what these guys usually understand as playing with girls.

“Are you getting along?” you ask and are not sure if this sounds stupid, “do have a place to stay and … people who care for you?”

“I’m getting along,” the girl mumbles and stretches her legs, “I can sleep in the community center and sometimes I get work from the gangs to eat. I … yes, I’m getting along.”

“What about school?” you ask, “how are the schools in this part of the town?”

“Which schools?” the girl asks, “all schools but one have been closed, because there were no teachers willing to work here anymore. And the last school here is nothing but a recruiting center for the gangs. The gangs and the teachers have some kind of agreement. Even the courses in the community center are run by the Amazons.”

“And how are you supposed to get jobs?” you ask irritated.

“We are not,” the girl answers bitter, “you really are not from here. There are deliberately no opportunities for advancement here. We are cheap laborers. Minimum wage jobs, hard labor and gang memberships for the most. Secretaries and foremen for the luckiest of us. Where are you from?”

“From another town some hours away from here,” you answer and try not to sound sad, “I life in another part of the town now. I came here by accident.”

“Well, then better go back there, before the wrong guys find out you have money,” the girl replies and gets up, “thanks for the money by the way. This will help for a few days. You are nice, but don’t try to change too much here. Or be extra careful when doing so. This already got other people in trouble. I have to go. One last hint: when you leave, be careful at the door at the end of the back alley over there. There is a **** labor and the guys who own it are addicted and unpredictable.”

“Thanks,” you reply and get up too, “I hope you somehow make it out of this mess. It was nice to meet you.”

You both leave the backyard and the girl disappears quickly. You follow the other path now and quickly find the door the girl talked about. You honor her hint and ignore it. Since it is at the opposite to the exit of the back alleys anyway, you just lave and enter the main streets again.