Another Middy and Polo RP ;)

Well, here it is! I'm not going to bother with rules or plots or anything like that, so I'll just put type up my new-and-improved character form.

Name: Ada Marie Fraser
Called: Ada
Age: 18
Gender: Female
Looks: The first thing you notice are her unusual eyes. They are a beautiful shade of violet, rich, dark and mysterious. Her long blonde hair reached the middle of her back, often loose or in a low ponytail. Ringlets from her childhood only appear at the nape of her neck, underneath the rest of her hair. Her skin is pale, tanning slightly only in the summertime. Ada is 5'10, making her fairly tall and lean. She dresses casually, never too fancy with shorts or jeans and a T-Shirt.
History: Ada was born to a loving mother and father on May 5. It was a difficult birth, and Ada was diagnosed with Alexandria's Genesis. Neither parents seemed bothered by this, and Ada's mother recovered quickly. Ada's first few years were filled with lots of fun and love. Being an only child, she also got lots of attention. But then, Ada's father lost his job when she was 5. He hadn't been spending much time with her, othen going out to drink and slack off. When Ada's mother found out her husband had also been doing drugs, she was horrified. But he eventually coaxed her into the bad addiction. It wasn't long and Ada's parents started abusing her, both when on drugs and not. She was locked in their basement numerous times; at school, teachers worried about her, but she often told them she had fell or been clumsy whenever a new scar or bruise appeared. Her classmates stayed away from her, not understanding all of her differences. One night, her father left. It only got worse then. When they were evicted from their apartment, Ada was 15. She continued to attend school, but stayed away from her classmates. They had went from teasing her to bullying her, and sometimes her mother wasn't the only one hurting her when Ada's fiery personality kicked in. It wasn't long before Ada couldn't take any of it anymore. After a few attempts of scuicide gone wrong, she ran from her mother to stay to herself. She still had a job, and now she wouldn't have to give all of her money to her mother for drugs. She managed to get a house when she graduated from school, along with a dog named Max.



Phew! Finished.

Name: Tyson Retisant (Say: Tie-Sin Ret-EE-Saunt) ((Ty))

Age: 17 years

Appearance: Tyson has long, straight black hair with he keeps tied in a braid down his back, stretching almost to his shoulder blades. His face is casually framed by shorter, loose strands, falling in layers from just above his eyebrows to below his chin. He has a stocky build, and is slightly shorter than most boys his age. He has high, proud cheekbones and a naturally richly tanned complexion. His eyes, though seldom seen, are a bright, fiery shade of brown - seeming almost red when the sun strikes them. He generally stands with a somewhat aloof and disinterested stance, often making himself appear unapproachable. He usually walks with his hands in his pockets, partially because he likes it that way, and partially for the practical purpose of having quicker access to the pen and notepad he keeps there.

Personlity: To be RPed


Other: 1 Sibling: Lizzie


Name: Elizabeth Retisant ((Lizzie))

Age: 18 years

Appearance: Very pretty light boned and slender girl. She is a natural redhead with a fair complexion and alluring pale blue eyes.

Personality: Cheerful, spontaneous, outgoing, friendly, enthusiastic, talkative, judgemental.

"Come on, Ty! Just eat it!" Lizzie pleaded, tugging at her brother's sleeve. "It's the best you're gonna get, so ya might's well make the best of it." Ty shrugged her off brusquely, flashing her a withering glare before turning his head haughtily away from the hot dog she offered him. "Oh, Ty!" She gave a strangled scream of frustration, all but jumping up and down in irritation with her brother. "Do you want to starve?!"
Ty turned his head slowly to face Lizzie, and stared at her for a moment with pitying incredulity, then rolled his eyes and turned his head away again, removing his hands from his pockets to cross them in front of his chest. "Oh, for goodness sake!" Lizzy all but screeched, storming around to stand in front of Tyson and grabbing his shoulders to force him to look at her. She ignored his glare. "Ty." She began slowly, speaking as though she was trying to explain the concept of the alphabet to an overly emotional toddler. "It's all very well to be proud..." Tyson stared haughtily down his nose at her, raising his eyebrow slightly. "But pride never did a dead man any use, now eat it."
Lizzie's jaw was set, her eyes blazing, and Ty knew that she was not about to give up. With an exaggerated sigh, Ty whipped a small notepad and pen from his pocket. Grasping the pen lightly, he quickly jotted down a few words in his neat handwriting. I won't eat other peoples' leftovers.
Lizze instantly exploded into a strangled scream of frustration, ripping at her long, fiery hair. "Fine, Ty! Fine! But don't blame me when you're half starved by the end of the week!" With that, she crammed the entire hotdog into her mouth, chewed and swallowed it in one motion, then licked her fingers to prove a point.
Ty tilted his head slightly to one side, then applauded sarcastically. For a moment, Lizzie looked mutinous, but then her scowl flickered, and her cheeks twitched. She chuckled despite herself, shaking her head incredulously. "Gosh, Ty... What am I going to do with you?" She asked in fond hopelessness, chuckling again at the sight of her brother's awkward expression. He always acted like he hated it when she showed affection, but she was sure he liked it, really... Ty was just too proud to admit it.
"C'mon, Ty. Stix'll be waitin'."
With that Lizzy turned and left the alleyway, walking out of the dark, eerie shadows into the brightly lit street outside. The sun was just starting to set, casting the world into gilded glory, and flinging an incandescent glow into her flaming hair. Lizzie couldn't hear Tyson following her, but she did not pause to wait for him. He would come. He always did...

Sure enough, after waiting a while in the dark alleyway, Tyson turned on his heel and set off slowly in the direction Lizzie had gone. With his shoulders drawn up to his ears and his hands in the pockets of his tattered old jeans, Ty strolled inconspicuously down the street, his eyes on the dark tarmac at his feet, and his head bowed so that the bright sunlight shadowed his eyes behind his glossy fringe.
As he walked past the hotdog stand at the side of the road, Ty's hand slipped out of his pocket and casually pinched the one nearest him, sneaking it away effortlessly. He ate as he walked, taking small bites, and chewing them in a dignified fashion.

I walked down the familar concrete sidewalk, a leash in one hand and dog treats in the other. My dog, Max, had gotten loose again. I sighed softly, knowing it was my fault he was gone again. Since I had been out searching for a job over the last few weeks, I had forgotten to walk him often and other times I was just too exhausted to take him. "Max!" I called again, my voice growing hoarse. I had been yelling for a while now. I kept my gaze down; even though there was nobody in sight to stare at my eyes, it had become a habit. I watched Max's old, worn leash drag down the street, guided loosely by my hand. At one time, it had been blue; but it was now a faded gray. I had gotten it at a garage sale after I got Max. I still remembered the day; I had been walking down the street when I heard a sad, lonely sound; when I came to it, all I saw was a heap of matted fur. When I discovered it was a dog, I had took him in immediatley. And it gave me something to care for, something that made me feel not so useless. That was how I had turned my life around. I had to work hard, and had a great paying job. But a month ago, the buisness closed. Thus, I had to find a new job. I kept my eyes peeled for flyers offering jobs, looking up every so often to check. "Max!" I hollered once more. From the corner of my eye, I spotted something golden and furry dashing from the bushes. "Max!" I said with a smile, greeting him as he raced up to me, barking wildly. "Where have to been?" I scolded lightly, ruffling his fur and checking for cuts or bruises. His paws were dark with dirt and mud, as was his underbelly and face. I make a tsk, tsk noise. "Looks like someone needs a bath when we get back," I said, starying to head for home at a job. Max followed me willingly, his tounge lolling out from the corner of his tounge. At least I wouldn't have to worry about exercising him for a day or two. After jogging for a bit, Max grew tired and I slowed to a walk. His chocolate brown eyes darted from me to what was in head of him, ears and eyes open for new sights and sounds. I smiled, patting his soft golden fur. I was so lucky to have such a wonderful dog. Soon enough, the house was in sight. We sprinted to the door, and I pulled out my keys to unlock it. Even though our neighborhood was quite safe, I didn't want to take any chances. I opened the door and Max padded into the kitchen, leaving a dirty trail of pawprints. "Let's get you straight into the tub!" I said, walking across the kitchen and opening the bathroom door. He whined, but walked in obediently as I ushering him into the tiny room. I closed the door; I didn't want him jumping out of the tub and messing up the house. My landlord would kill me if he got onto the furniture. I got out the dog shampoo while Max sat down, still whining a bit. I rolled my eyes. He disliked water that got any higher than his legs. I took off the shower head and turned it on, getting Max into the tub. I held him back when he tried to jump out, wetting his coat before rubbing in the shampoo. When I rinsed out the shampoo and turned of the shower, Max was relieved. I was soaked! Even worse, when he jumped out of the tub, he shook off, spraying me with even more water. "Max!" I exclaimed, laughing. I began to dry him with a towel before letting him out. His coat smelled like an assortment of fruits and shone brightly. I smiled, as if waiting to see sparkles jump from it. Then I got out the mop and began to clean up the mess.

"C'mon, Ty, we're gonna be late!" Lizzie chided, all but jumping up and down beside him as Ty walked on in his steady, dignified pace. He showed absolutely no interest in anything going on around him, and did not react when Lizzie pleaded with him to hurry up and began tugging on his shirt sleeve. Unconcerned, Ty traipsed steadily on, until finally they reached their destination. They slipped off the sidewalk like ghosts, sliding stealthily into the shadowy alleyway. They detoured around a clump of boxes, then emerged in a form of clearing where all the junk had been pushed aside, and the space was filled instead with a group of teenagers. They were all dirty, with matted hair and ragged clothing, and they all turned to look as Lizzie and Ty entered their 'circle'.
"Lizzie! Ty! You're late!" Barked the impatient voice of the boy directly opposite them. He sat on a dumpster, a little above all the others, and it was clear to anybody watching that he was their leader. "Sorry, Stix!" Lizzie fretted, hurrying forward and taking the boy's dirty hand in her own, bringing it briefly to her lips in apology. "We did try to hurry, honest, but we ran inta some coppers n' had ta hide in an alley until they'd gone. I'm sorry, Stix, real sorry."
She gazed beseechingly up at him, but Stix had no eyes for the pretty girl clinging to his had. Instead, his gaze flicked to Tyson. "Lizzie is sorry, Ty. Aren't you going to apologise, too?" He asked coolly, smirking slightly at Ty's dull expression.
In response, Tyson withdrew the notepad and pen from his pocket, and scrawled a quick note.
Tyson.
He held it up toward Stix with a bored expression, then watched with a vague hint of amusement as the colour of Stix's face slowly changed to red, then to a deep puce.
"I said," Stix repeated through clenched teeth, "Don't you owe me an apology, Tyson?" He placed a mocking emphasis on the name - furious that Tyson dared be so rude to him. He could call the dumb git whatever he liked! This was his gang, after all...
But the truth was, something about Tyson's deadly silence, and his cool, calm demeanour unnerved Stix. He didn't like it... It was unnatural. So he was forever challenging Ty, picking on him, poking at his temper. He had to exhibit his unquestionable dominance at all times, else he feared Ty might become a problem for him...
Tyson.
What was it about that boy?
"Ty... Just apologise." Lizzie's soft voice pleaded, filled with the fear of what might happen if her brother remained so stubbornly proud. "We were late, after all..."
Ty drew in a deep breath, then gave an exaggerated sigh, scribbling his words with dramatic actions.
I apologise.
He flipped the page.
But I'm not sorry.
With that, he slipped the notepad back into his pocket, and sat stubbornly on the cardboard box behind him, gesturing impatiently for Stix to continue with the meeting.
Stix rolled his eyes, but did as Ty suggested all the same - barking out orders, drawing diagrams in the dirt, and assigning every member a task. Finally, they were dismissed, and Tyson waiting for Lizzie to kiss Stix goodbye and start walking toward him before he turned away and left, heading in the direction of their designated house. "Oh, wait up, will you?!" Lizzie called irritably from behind him, jogging to catch up. Ty did not wait. He turned a corner, then quickened his pace as the house came into sight.
Lizzy grumbled mutinously, then settled into stride beside him and began chiding him for his rudeness during the meeting. Ty ignored her. He was looking for the best way in, now. It looked to him like whoever stayed here had left quite recently. With a bit of luck, Lizzie and Ty could be in and out before they returned. He turned to Lizzie and nodded, then set off in a silent jog toward the house. A tiny gap had been left in one of the windows, and Ty used this to prise it open with iron fingers. He slipped easily inside, glanced around, then waved to Lizzie to keep watch. There was no need for her to come in - this looked like an easy job.
Ty began searching around the house. He did not like stealing, but he did what he had to to get by. Still, he did not enjoy ruining lives, so he didn't want to steal anything precious... Just valuable enough that it could buy himself and Lizzie a couple of weeks' meals.
Unable to find anything downstairs, Ty dashed up the stairs on light toes, entering into what seemed to be a bedroom. He scratched through the drawers, searching for jewelry. Finally, he found an ornate wooden box that looked hopeful, and managed to break the lock and flip the lid open.
However, at that moment, Ty heard a sound rather like the hoot of a drunken owl with a vocal problem. Although it was terribly done, that was Lizzie's signal. Dropping the box, Ty dashed to the window, staring out with uncharacteristically wide eyes. Sure enough, a figure and a dog were walking along the road, and they seemed to be heading toward this house!
Without a thought on the untouched jewelry in the box, Ty spun around and fled the room, leaping down the stairs, and reaching the door a moment too late. He heard the key turn in the lock, and flung himself aside just in time, lying dead-still behind the sofa. He heard the sound of the dog's claws clicking on the floor, and the woman's voice as she spoke to him.
She sounded kind.
This thought sent hot guilt flooding over Ty, and he suddenly felt himself feeling glad that he had not taken anything. Lizzie would be upset. He had failed last time, too. Still - what mattered now was getting out undetected.
As soon as he heard the spray of water upstairs, Ty stepped silently over to the window. Upon reaching it, he saw Lizzie on the other side, peering through the glass. "Did you get anything?" She mouthed silently. Ty shook his head. Seeming highly annoyed, Lizzy pointed viciously toward the house and mouthed angrily "Then grab something now! Anything!" Again, Ty shook his head.
With a strangled scream of frustration, Lizzie reached up to tug at her glossy red hair, then she dropped a mutinous glare on Ty. Ever-so-slowly, Lizzie raised a hand until the back of her fist was parallel to Ty's face, then her middle finger flicked up. She mouthed something obscene, then slammed the window shut, wedged it closed with a stick, and flounced away with a smirk, leaving her brother staring after her, and not seeming quite as worried as he should. Ty shrugged, then headed over to the next window and attempted to force it open. He had almost got it, when suddenly the clicking sound of claws came again. The dog. Ty raised his shoulders to his ears, wincing in preparation to the sound he knew would come next: The bark.
Sure enough, the dog exploded into fits of barking. Ty sighed heavily, but he made no move to escape. This was checkmate, and he knew it - so he would not bother resisting.
It was a good dog, really.
He liked it.
Ty nodded his approval, then leaned casually against the wall and waiting disinterestedly for somebody to find him.

I mopped up the bathroom, humming slightly as I did so. I was just finishing when Max began to bark unocntrollably. "Max, what - " I walked out of the bathroom and immediatley gasped, stepping back. There was a dirty, dark-haired boy around my age leaning against the wall casually, as if he had been here waiting for me. My violet eyes were huge as I stared at him, feeling afraid. Get a grip! I thought to myself, clencing my teeth as I held back screams and threats to call the police. "Quiet, Max." I said quietly, and he stopped barking. He watched the boy cautiously, staying close to my side. A low growl came from deep in his throat, which scared me further. Was this a murderer? A theif? With most strangers, Max was very friendly - except when he could sense danger. My eyes narrowed slightly as I took a deep breath, reaching for the pocket knife in my pocket. But I stopped, realizing that would be silly. Firstly, this may not be a murderer or a theif. And secondly, a pocket knife wouldn't be much for protection. "What are you doing here?" My violet eyes pierced into his, demanding an answer. His eyes appeared dark, though I couldn';t be sure in my low-lighted kitchen. I knew I needed to act calm, collected, and angry. There was something I recognized about this person; but I just couldn't put my finger on what it was... I looked away from him, my eyes darting around the kitchen for something I could use as a weapon if he were to attack me. There was a glass vase full of flowers on the table; pans that needed to be washed in the sink; and, of course, the pocket knife in my jean pocket. Max started to growl again, and I patted him to make him stop. He looked up at me with his brown eyes, seeming confused. Why wasn't I yelling at him to get out? Shooing him out with a broom or mop, like they did in movies? The last part seemed silly, but I didn't fully understand why I wasn't yelling at him. And why he was leaned against the wall. When I was in the bathroom, he could have easily ran out through the front door. Unless - "Do you have any of my stuff?" I asked sharply, blinking to hold back tears. Not much mattered, except my wooden box upstairs, which held precious things like my silver necklace and my mother's picture locket. I hoped he hadn't been upstairs.


[A bit short. ]

Hearing the same voice from before, Ty turned to watch the girl approach with a dull lack of interest. She hushed the dog, and then she seemed to notice him leaning against the wall, for she stared right at him, and she seemed afraid. He could not blame her… He probably looked a mess, and besides, he was somewhere he should not be: In her house. It was only right that she should be surprised.
He blinked unconcernedly at her, watching her, and waiting to find out the verdict. To find out what would happen to him, now that he had been caught. He could have escaped… It was silly, really, that he hadn’t – but he wouldn’t have felt right if he had. That would have been cheating. The dog had already found him, so he had lost, and it would go against his sense of pride to be a sore loser now and try to tip the tables in his favour.

Then the girl questioned him. ”What are you doing here?!” She sounded angry. Tyson sighed heavily, then took his notepad and pen from his pocket and began writing. Only once he had started did he realize that his neat, curvy handwriting would be too small for her to read at such a distance. He flipped over the wasted page, then started on the next one, writing slightly larger and clearer, and with a flicker of annoyance. This was not his handwriting. It did not look neat. He did not like it – not at all.
While he was writing, the girl began to speak again, and he glanced up to hear her demand, watching her with polite attentiveness. "Do you have any of my stuff?" She seemed upset now, and Tyson did not like that. He couldn’t stand upsetting people… Though when it came down to it, he supposed he didn’t mind that much. That was life.
Still, he shook his head simply, then glanced back to his page and continued writing.

I came to steal something. Came his blunt, written response. After holding up the page for a moment with an inscrutable expression, he flipped to the next one. But I could not find anything that would meet both my needs and my scruples.
He flipped the page again.
So, no. I do not have anything of yours.
He clicked his pen decisively, then flipped the notepad closed and took to staring casually around the house – looking as calm and relaxed as though he had been invited in for tea. A slight thoughtful frown disturbed his trademark dull expression then, as a sudden thought struck Tyson.
He flipped the notepad open again and scribbled another brief note.

You should keep your windows shut.

Frank as ever, Ty gave a brief nod, then flipped the notepad closed again. Presently, his legs began to feel tired, and he decided that he had been standing long enough – so he simply slid down the wall and sat neatly on the floor, one leg out straight in front of him, and the other bent at the knee.
Yes, that was better. His feet had been hurting from all the walking he had done that day… And after all that, he still hadn’t found a shower. Tyson had to fight back the taste of bile at the back of his throat at this thought. He absolutely despised feeling dirty. That was one thing he did mind. He wondered if they would have showers in prison… If they didn’t, he thought perhaps he’d try to escape. He did not like to cause a scene, but he did not like being dirty, either… Oh well. He didn’t mind, really.

I stared at him blanky as he did not answer me, but pulled out a pen and notepad. Was he ignoring me? I was confused as he frowned at his paper, and flipped to the next page and wrote again. I was getting angry when he held up the paper. Despite the distance and the size of the paper, I could read the words very easily as my violet eyes went over it. It was part of my "gift", as some called it. But I called it a curse. I came to steal something. It read. I should have started yelling at him, and calling the police; but I did not. Instead, my eyes followed him as he flipped the page, writing down something before holding it up. But I could not find anything that would meet both my needs and my scruples. I sighed with relief, but still could not speak as he flipped to another page. So, no. I do not have anything of yours. He put away the pen and notepad. Max walked cautiously over to him, sniffing the air in front of him before circling back to me. Suddenly, he took it out again, writting down another note. You should keep your windows shut. So that was how he got in. I pondered over all of this for a moment before saying, "You could of gotten something, if you had of just asked." But I knew that that was the job of a bum or a beggar; not a broke theif. He seemed very expressionless, and I still wasn't sure what to make of the notepad and pen. And why the heck hadn't I yelled at him to get out yet? So many questions swirled through my mind, but I pushed them away. "What's your name?" I asked, looking at him. My stares did not faze him, and he hadn't seemed to notice my eyes. He seemed to hear, feel and see nothing; but this was not true, for he answered my questions. Suddenly realizing it was rude to ask of his name and not give mine in return, I added, "I'm Ada." Still, something gnawed at the pit of my stomach and refused to drift away; [i]Why do I feel like I recognize this theif and as if I feel almost sorry for him? Why can't I act like a real person would act?

”You could have gotten something, if you’d asked.” The words struck Tyson’s ears like the sounding of a gong – and he did not like gongs. A flicker of annoyance passed through his usually inscrutable expression, and he instantly began writing furiously – but then he paused. He seemed to think better of whatever he was going to ‘say’ and flipped his notebook closed, settling for glaring at the girl instead. That had been uncalled for, what she’d said. He had more pride than that…
Why didn’t she just call the cops on him, and get it over with? If she lorded her victory over him any more, he might just get up and leave. Sure, it would be unfair, but treating him like the rest of that street trash was unfair as well. He was different. He knew, because he made sure of it each and every day.
Then, the girl did something that surprised him. She asked his name.
He blinked at her in vague surprise for a moment – and noted with mild interest the unusual colour of her eyes. He hadn’t noticed it before… But it didn’t really bother him. Not much did.
Still… Why did she want to know his name…? He couldn’t see the harm in telling her. She’d find out anyway when the police arrived. And besides, she’d asked a direct question. He began reaching for his pen, but then the girl said something else.
Her own name.
She was called Ada.
Ty wasn’t sure what to make of this. He lowered his pen and frowned thoughtfully at her, then seemed to come to a conclusion, and slowly jotted down his response.

My name is Tyson.

It was plain and simple. A direct answer, and no more. He had no reason to say more.
Spewing out those cliché lines like ‘pleased to meet you’ or ‘an honour to make your acquaintance’… What was the point? Even if he used one, she’d know he didn’t mean it, and why should he say something he didn’t mean?
He was a thief, much as he despised the label.
She was the owner of the house he was robbing.
In what sort of twisted universe could he possibly by pleased to meet her?!

Tyson sighed heavily, showing the faintest hint of the melodic voice he hid, then flipped to the next page of his notebook and wrote a single word.

Why?

She could interpret it how she liked. He didn’t really care. It was a common question with a million answers, and he’d accept any one. It was just a way to kill time, in any case. The police would be here soon.
But wait… Why hadn’t she called them yet?
A frown crept over Tyson’s face again, and he watched her curiously – his red-brown eyes actually holding a spark of interest.
Why… Why indeed?

He didn't seem pleased with my first remark, and began to write furiously. I was waiting for him to reveal the note, but he paused. He closed the notebook, and his expression changed at my next words. This shocked me a bit; throughout the past few minutes, I had grown used to his dull look. But now, he seemed suprised at my question. He was reaching for his pen, but stopped when I revealed my own name, frowning thoughtfully at me. He didn't seem to know what to make of it. But then, he began to write his response. He wrote slowly, much slowly than he had started to before. I began to wonder if he was ever going to answer me when he raised up his notebook. My name is Tyson. So Tyson was his name. He gave me plain, short answers all the time, I began to notice. He didn't seem very talkative, and I didn't either. There was silence for a moment before I could hear him writing down something else. I looked at the word. Why The single words made me think. Why? Why am I asking so many questions? Why am I asking your name and giving you mine? Why aren't I calling the police? Why am I talking to you as if you are a neightbor I invited in for a chat? Why are you still here? The list of 'Whys' in my mind were endless. A frown crept over Tyson’s face, and his eyes(which I could now see were a reddish-brown, or amber) held a flicker of intrest. And with all of the 'Whys', there was only one answer. "I... I don't know." I answered, my voice breaking a bit. Looking up at him, I finally was able to break down the answer to the question; when I looked at this 'Tyson', I saw a dirty girl with a bored expression and lifeless body.
I saw the person I used to be.

Tyson watched Ada curiously as she seemed to struggle to find an answer to his question. He could not see why… It was simple and direct. The answer ought to have been clear…
And when she finally answered, it was.
She didn’t know.
Ty stared at her for a moment – watching her attentively.
Then he slowly picked up his pen, and stared at the blank page before him. He paused, then put the nib to the page, and cautiously wrote two simple words.

Me neither.

For Ty, that was where the conversation had begun. They had something in common – he could see it in her eyes. And at that moment, he knew that she had no intention of calling the police on him. Lizzie would have to try harder next time…
Fool girl, letting her emotions get the best of her. She knew all too well that she couldn’t survive without him. She just didn’t have his brains. It was the harsh truth, and she knew it as well as he did.
But Lizzie wasn’t here now. He had to focus.
Ty clicked his pen thoughtfully for a while – seeming to become more and more irritated by the minute. Finally, he placed the pen firmly on the ground beside him. The clicking stopped. He was glad – he could think now. And so he thought for a moment, then he lifted the pen again, and clicked it.
He frowned.
Too much clicking…
Brushing his irritation aside with a shudder, Ty began sketching a note rapidly in his tidy scrawl. This was somewhat unusual, since Ty seldom had anything to say when he hadn’t been asked a direct question.
Well… More to ‘write’ than to ‘say’ – though to Ty it was the same thing.

Finally finished, Ty held up his note. As expected, it was neat, but the content was somewhat strange by normal standards.

I take back what I didn’t say before.
It is a pleasure to meet you after all, Ada.

And with that, he placed his pen and notebook on the ground, and watched her – his usual dull expression just the same as always, but with the faintest spark of interest. Ty made no move to get up and leave, despite the fact that he didn’t know why he was staying.

It was strange, really… But he didn’t mind.

Tyson stared at me attentively, freaking me out a bit, but I soon got over it. My eyes flickered as I spotted him picking up his pen and staring at the blank page. He wrote two simple words:
Me neither.
Now, I couldn't shake the image in my head. I could almost hear the sirens and feel my chest rising as I ran in my thoughts. Suddenly, the picture changed, and it was Tyson in my thoughts, running from the sirens. The connection made me feel on edge; it seemed that there was something about him that made me quiet. Max ventured forward again, and began to sniff Tyson's hand, licking it cautiously. I smiled slightly at my golden ball of fur. I heard a clicking noise, and looked up once more. It was Tyson, of course, clicking his pen as staring into space, a thoughtful look on his face. I gently eased against the wall, and winced, pulling my knees into my chest as I sat down on the floor across from him. The scar on my back seemed to hurt, but I knew I was only imagining it. That had been years ago. I got lost in thoughts as I looked out the window, dark images coming to my mind. A time when I was 15 or so.
"Where were you today? School gets out at 1:00, and it's 2:30." My mother's words were slightly slurred, and there were drugs on the kitchen counter. "Mom, school gets out at 2:00, and the school bus takes -" I was suddenly against the wall, my mother screaming in my face. "Don't you back-talk me, child!" She said angrily, her words sharp. My violet eyes grew wide as she picked up the ironor off the table. "This'll teach you." She muttered, her words slurred. I turned to run, and the thrust the ironer at my back. I screamed, biting my tounge to try and not let out my more. I could taste the crimson liquid in my mouth. "That'll teach you..." My mother's voice slurred and drifted off again, until I was alone. Left there with a burning backside and hot tears in my eyes.
I tried to shake the bad memories, but I could not. I held back the tears well, hiding my face. Tyson had wrote something else, and was waiting for a reply.
I take back what I didn’t say before. It is a pleasure to meet you after all, Ada. I smiled slightly, managing to take my mind off my thoughts. "The same to you, Tyson." I said.

Feeling a warm tongue flick across his hand, Tyson glanced to his side to see the dog standing there, licking his hand cautiously. It was a good dog. A very good dog indeed.
Tyson patted its head gently, then it turned away from him and trotted off back to its master. It had obviously decided that he was not a threat – and it was right. He had no intention of hurting anybody. He never did, unless he had to. Even then – he was more brains than brawn compared to most of the boys on the street, The majority of them were bigger and older than him, which always put Ty at an immediate disadvantage in a fight. Thankfully, though, the others seldom picked fights with him. He thought that perhaps they were a little intimidated by his silence… Though he couldn’t see why, since there was nothing intimidating about it, really.
Still – he didn’t mind.

Tyson glanced up as he heard a faint sliding sound, and saw that the girl was now sitting on the ground opposite him. That was rather strange… It was her house. She could sit on a sofa, couldn’t she?
Then again, it didn’t really bother him. She could do whatever she liked.
He watched her curiously, as she gave a strangely sad-looking smile and spoke a response to his note. ”The same to you, Tyson.”

Huh… That should not have made him glad, but it did. Tyson placed a hand on his chest, and nodded solemnly – thanking her from his heart. The pen remained untouched. It wasn’t needed for this… Sometimes actions spoke louder than ink.

Ty gnawed his lip, suddenly feeling somewhat awkward. He knew that he should not be here… But he did not really want to leave just yet. Let Lizzie worry over him a while longer after what she’d done. It had been mean, really. He could have escaped before the dog saw him if she hadn’t slammed that window shut. Still, he supposed he ought to be grateful, for if he’d escaped then he would not have met Ada – and she was a pleasant sort, really. It was seldom that the more ‘upper-class’ folk treated the street kids as anything more than stray dogs or juvenile delinquents. Okay, so most of them were delinquents, Ty included, but they had to get by somehow, and sometimes staying within the law was not an option. The law did not accommodate for the likes of them.

At that moment, a knock on the door caught Tyson’s attention. He whipped his head around, watching the door like a hunting dog – his sharp profile showing no expression. He listened closely to the knocks:
Loud
Soft
Loud
Loud

He knew that knock – it was Lizzie. Ty’s expression hardened slightly as he stared at the door. What was Lizzie playing at…?

I watched as the paper and pen remained untouched. Instead, Tyson placed a hand on his chest, and nodded solemnly. I understood that he was thanking me from the heart. I thought about it for a moment, and realized that he probably didn't hear anything like that very often. And I highly doubted that he had ever sat down and had a conversation with the owner of a house he was robbing. I still wondered if I should call the police, but now I knew that I could not; It would be unfair, like giving a bone to a dog and snatching it away. I thought about times I had stolen - not from houses, but from booths and stores. I still remembered the biggest thing I stole. It was a hot summer day, and I was walking down the street when I saw some bathingsuits outside of racks. The store owner was inside, busy checking out items for someone. I spotted a nice one that looked my size. It was blue, plain and simple; I loved it. And before I knew it, I walked up and grabbed it, running away. I still remembered the bystander's calls; "Hey lady, aren't ya going to pay for that?" I has certainly gotten uses out of that; I went to the beach almost every day wearing it. I emerged from my thoughts when I heard a knock on the door. Max got up and barked, scratching at the door and whining. I looked over at Tyson, who seemed to know something. Confused, I got up and opened the door. "Hello." I greeted the girl. She had the same dirt look as Tyson, and I figured she was here to get him. I looked over at the window, which was jammed with a stick. I was pretty sure I knew why Tyson was still here now. "I'm Ada. And you are...?" I asked curiously. I wondered if she was linked to Tyson; after all, it was possible that she was not...

Lizzie flashed a bright smile as the girl opened the door – flaunting her near flawless set of pearly teeth. “Hi there, Ada.” She said kindly in way of greeting. “I’m Elizabeth Retisant.” Lizzie said her full name, because she liked the way it sounded. It made her sound important… Royal, even. It was a good name, an upper-class name, not like those of the other street kids. ‘Charlie Baker’ and ‘Scott Brown’ – they all had ordinary, underwhelming names. Hers was different.
Lizzie paused a moment, then decided she ought to be a little more accessible. She had to play her cards right if she was going to get this ‘Ada’ to believe whatever she said. “You can call me Lizzie.” She added with a charming grin – obviously not shy to flaunt her good looks for all they were worth.
“Listen, I’m real sorry to bother, but-” Lizzie began suddenly, slapping a convincingly ashamed and apologetic expression on her face. Tyson nearly laughed out loud, but he restrained himself. “M’brother… Ty – Did he come here? I do hope he hasn’t been a bother…” She trailed off, then heaved a defeated sigh, lowering her head into her hands as though to hide tears that did not fall, and speaking with a tremor in her voice. “You see… Ty – he ain’t quite right. He’s special, see? We was walkin’ down the road, n’ then he was gone, n’ I been lookin’ for him since. I think he got lost… Wandered into some house… Oh do tell me you’ve seen him!”
Lizzie looked up then, her eyes glazed admirably with fake tears as she gazed up at Ada with such heartbroken desperation that her story almost seemed believable.
Ty was not impressed.

Then again, he didn’t really mind. If the lie got him out of trouble, so be it. If it got Lizzie into more trouble than he was already in, so be it. Either way, it didn’t make much difference to him. He didn’t think Ada would fall for Lizzie’s act anyway. She seemed too smart… But then again, she also seemed quite soft – and nobody could deny it, Lizzie was good.
Shrugging off the entire situation, Ty flipped his notebook open and began doodling absentmindedly – completely ignoring his sister’s presence. Poor Ada… To have to deal with all this. It really did bother him when his actions brought in convenience to others.

“Hi there, Ada.” The girl greeted me. “I’m Elizabeth Retisant.” She said with a smile. Her teeth were white as pearls. I nodded and smiled in return, but was still confused. Why was she here? I figured I would have to wait for her to tell me. “You can call me Lizzie.” I nodded again. "Nice to meet you, Lizzie." I said politely. “Listen, I’m real sorry to bother, but-” The girl began suddenly, an ashamed and apologetic expression on her face. I wondered what she wanted. “M’brother… Ty –Did he come here? I do hope he hasn’t been a bother…” She trailed off, then heaved a defeated sigh, lowering her head into her hands as though to hide tears that did not fall, and speaking with a tremor in her voice. “You see… Ty – he ain’t quite right. He’s special, see? We was walkin’ down the road, n’ then he was gone, n’ I been lookin’ for him since. I think he got lost… Wandered into some house… Oh do tell me you’ve seen him!” I looked back at Tyson, confused more than ever. He hadn't just wandered in; I knew it. He had came in here to steal something, or else he would have said so. When people said someone was special, it usually meant they had some sort of problem. But other than not speaking, it didn't seem like there was anything wrong with Tyson - or Ty, as he was called. Something about the girl's story didn't seem quite right... I looked at the girl again, and saw tears in her eyes. I felt guilty and suprised. If her story was fake, I highly doubted she would be crying, but I still looked at her in a funny way as I opened the door wider. "Is this him?" I asked, gesturing to the wall where he was sitting.

As the door opened, Lizzie gasped in delight to see Ty, who stared exasperatedly at her - unable to believe that she had actually just got away with that story. Next thing he knew, Lizzie had race into the house and thrown herself at him with a series of fake sobs. Ty held her at an arm's length, quite literally. He fended off her hug. He didn't want to be hugged. Quite frankly, he just wanted Lizzie to leave him alone, which she had seemed quite keen to do before.
Lizzie continued her distraught sister act a while longer, before Ty decided he would tolerate it no longer. He poked her sharply in the shoulder with his pen, and she ceased crying with a gasp, rubbing her sore shoulder tenderly and watching him with trepidation.
He raised his head haughtily, then flipped his pen over and jotted down a quick note, handing it to Lizzie.

Put it back.

Lizzie read the note, then scrunched it in her fist, narrowing her eyes to glare threateningly at Ty in a subtle manner that she hoped Ada might miss.
"Come on, Ty. Thank the nice lady, and let's go." Lizzie encouraged, taking him by the hand and leading him toward the door as though he were a lost toddler. Ty had no intention of going along with her hair-brained scheme. Instead, he planted his heels and refused to budge - looking for all the world like a stubborn mule.
Again, Lizzy flashed him a murderous glare.
"Come along, Ty." She said again, an edge to her voice.
Ty smiled mockingly - his face no longer seeming his own with the strange expression - and shook his head. "Ty..." The word came out in a low growl.
That was enough for Ty. He pulled away from Lizzie, grabbed her arm, and prised the ornament she had taken from her fingers. He set it back in its original spot on the wall shelf beside where he had been sitting, then brushed past Lizzie and headed toward the door. He paused, nodded his thanks to Ada, and left. Ignoring Lizzie completely, he pulled the door shut behind him.
Revenge was sweet.

Lizzie stood for a moment, feeling rather awkward, then suddenly burst into nervous laughter. "Ah, that's Ty for you! He's a sweetie, isn't he? Thinks he's so smart..." She giggled girlishly, not really paying attention to the words leaving her mouth as she backed quickly toward the door.
If she got caught from trying to help him, Ty was SO going to regret this...

Tyson wrote the girl, Lizzie, a quick note, and she crushed it in her hand. "Come on, Ty. Thank the nice lady, and let's go." She encouraged, taking him by the hand and leading him toward the door. I watched, even more confused. He refused to move, and the girl shot him a murderous glare. Now, I could tell it had been an act. I wasn't sure what to make of it. "Come along, Ty." She said again, an edge to her voice. He was like a stubborn mule, refusing to do anything she said. Though I didn't blame him. I certainly wouldn't let others push me around if I could help it... "Ty..." The word came out in a low growl. It had always been known for brothers and sisters to fight like cats and dogs... though I didn't know the saying was serious...
After that, Tyson moved fast. He grabbed her arm, and prised the ornament she had taken from her fingers. I hadn't even noticed, and stared in disbelief. He set it back in its original spot on the wall shelf beside where he had been sitting, then brushed past Lizzie and headed toward the door. He paused to nod his thanks to me, ignoring Lizzie completely. He pulled the door shut behind him.
I couldn't help but smirk a bit, making sure the girl didn't see me. I looked over at her. She seemed to feel rather awkward, then suddenly burst into nervous laughter. I knew I would have done the same. "Ah, that's Ty for you! He's a sweetie, isn't he? Thinks he's so smart..." She giggled, obiously not really paying attention to the words leaving her mouth as she backed quickly toward the door. Max barked at her, and I opened the door for her, smiling slightly. "Bye..." I murmured, figuring I wouldn't ever see either of them again. This made me feel a bit dissapointed, though I knew it shouldn't have. They were quite the unusual pair, really, and I enjoyed talking with Tyson. The girl, I wasn't so sure about... Are you out of your MIND? They both just tried to steal from you! Why can't you think like a normal person? This repeated in my head over and over again, and every time, the answer was the same.
"I... I don't know.

Lizzie breathed a soft sigh as Ada opened the door for her, and she waved with unnecessary enthusiasm, before jogging after Ty - who was already half way down the road.
"Hey, Ty, wait up!" She called breathlessly, puffing with every stride she took after him. She was unfit...
"Ty!" She called again, this time with some irritation.
If Ty heard her, then he gave no indication of it. He was walking along somewhat cheerfully - elated by his rare stroke of dumb luck. Lizzie did not seem quite so pleased. When she finally caught up, she fell into step beside him and instantly fell into a vicious tongue lashing, to which Ty did not bother to listen.
"What the hell were ya playin' at, Ty?! Here I'd come to bust ya out, and you was gettin' all cozy-like..."
Ty stopped, turned his head slowly, and stared pityingly at Lizzie - his incredulous expression showing exactly what he thought of her description.
Lizzie stared back at him for a moment, then burst out laughing - unable to help herself. "Oh, Ty!" She gave a strangled scream of frustration, then laughed even harder. "You really are hopeless..."
Ty blinked disconcertedly at her, and merely shrugged at her accusation.
Hopeless in what way...?
Actually, he didn't care.
"But seriously-" Lizzie went on, her tone suddenly businesslike. "You ain't gonna get that lucky every time. Ya gotta learn to grab n' go, Ty. You just can't take ya time deciding on what would be the 'kindest' think to steal..." She sighed and shook her head in exasperation. "C'mon, we gotta report back to Stix."
Ty folded his arms stubbornly and shook his head. He didn't want to see Stix. He already wasn't Stix's favourite person, and this would only get him more in line for a beating. It would be stupid to go to him now... That would be the very definition of 'poking the bear'.
Ty turned his head and stared wistfully over his shoulder at Ada's house. He'd bet she had food in there... And a shower, too, no doubt! Ah, what he wouldn't give for a shower...
"Yoohoo, Ty!" Lizzie called, snapping her fingers in his face. Ty glared at her. "Okay, okay, I'm sorry I slammed the window on ya - but you was inside, Ty! You coulda got out through one of the other windows..."
Ty cut her off with a shake of his head, and Lizzie raised her eyebrows in surprise. If that wasn't bothering him...
"Urrrm... I'm sorry I pulled the finger at ya?" Ty accepted her apology with a dignified nod, then watched her expectantly - waiting for more. "And I, um..." She went on, frowning deeply as she tried to work out what was bothering Ty. "I'm sorry I swore at ya." She attempted hopefully.
Ty nodded, then took out his notepad and sketched a quick note.
You're forgiven.
Lizzie smiled sheepishly at her brother.
Ty ignored her.

I went over to the window, attempting to pry the stick out of it. I watched the two go down the street; they were now quite a distance away, but I could see them clearly. I couldn't help but wonder where they were going... I found myselft staring out the window, watching them. I blinked twice and shook my head, laughiong quietly at myself. I glanced at the clock; it read 2:00. There had been something I had to do at lunchtime; what had it been...? "I forgot to get you lunch!" I exclaimed, watching as Max picked up his food bowl and carried it over to me, whining. I took it from him and opened up the cubboard where I stored his food. I used a spoon to mix some dry food with some soft food; it was the only way he would eat it. He watched me quietly, his head tilted slightly to one side. I smiled as I put it down and he scarfed it down, finishing in less than a minute. I plopped down on the couch in the livingroom, flicking on the television with a bored expression. After a while of channel-surfing, I settled with the news. They were talking about a house fire in a nearby city, and while I looked at the TV, I didn't even hear it. I was setting my route for where I would go tomorrow, searching for job appilcations. And I would take Max with me, or at least make sure he was locked securely in the house... suddenly, something on the TV caught my eye. "A woman by the name of Arlene Macneil was arrested recently with charges for abusing her 10-year old son. He was taken to hospital with severe injuries. There is the possibility that drugs were involved..." I stared at the picture of the woman sobbing as she was taken from her home. My home... My mother! "The boy has no other relatives, except for the possibility of an older sister..." I froze. That was me. Before I knew it, I had switched off the TV and headed out the door. I had to get to the hospital...

In the end, Lizzie did manage to report back to Stix, and it did not go well. Stix had been angry that, once again, Ty had come back with nothing. Harsh words had been thrown around - and only Stix's inexplicable fear of Ty's relentless silence had kept him from putting a gun to his head.
Ty knew that he could tank his lucky stars he was still alive when Stix was in such a temper, but that did not stop him from clearly displaying his haughty, stuck-up attitude when Stix began raging at him. Ty turned up his nose and looked away - ignoring Stix with dignity.
That was simply too much, and Stix could contain his temper no longer. Fury overcame fear, and Stix whipped a knife from his belt.
Before Ty even had time to react, Stix had slashed the knife towards him. His eyes widened in shock. Shock, but not fear, as he saw the razor-sharp blade moving toward him, and knew he had no time to dodge. So he did the only thing he could: He turned so the knife skimmed his side, instead of embedding itself in his ribs.

"Stix, stop it!" Lizzie yelled hysterically, rushing towards him. Stix sneered sadistically as Ty dropped to his knees - clutching his bleeding side.
Gosh, this was most inconvenient. Where was he going to find the money for new clothes...?
The gash was deep.
Ty stared blankly at it as blood gushed thickly from the rip in his denim jacket - pooling on the ground in a bright array of red and crimson. He was vaguely aware of Lizzie screaming, shouting and sobbing - though whether at him or Stix he was not sure, since he wasn't really listening. In fact, he was struggling to focus on anything at all. The wound was rather deep, and it was bleeding profusely. Stix was beginning to get scared now. Much as he boasted, Ty doubted he'd ever killed anybody before, and the sight of Tyson's blood streaming out onto the cold tarmac seemed to give him cold feet, since he hadn't meant to do that much damage. Eventually, he decided to flee the scene - which Ty only vaguely noticed. He was feeling rather dizzy and light-headed now, and his pulse raised with a dull, painful throbbing.
Finally, he felt his grip on reality begin to slip. At the same moment, he felt Lizzie help to lift him to his feet, and did all he could to stay on them while she lead him - swaying drunkenly - down the street.
Thankfully, the hospital was nearby.

And that was where Ty awoke a few brief hours later. He was laying in a bed - a real bed, not some old cardboard box, and he was alone. He stared around the bright white room, and smelled the disinfectant. It was clean, which he approved of, but it seemed almost too clean... It unnerved him.
Remembering the stabbing, Ty glanced down at his side to find it professionally bandaged - the bleeding ceased. He was attached to an IV drip, too. He didn't like it.
Tyson promptly removed the needle from his arm, and climbed out of the bed.
With a distasteful frown, he realised that he was wearing a hospital gown. He did not like that at all.
With an irritated expression, Ty scoured the room for his clothes, and finally found them - washed and folded - in a pile in the corner.
He changed back into them, folded the hospital gown neatly, and left it where he had found the clothes, then went over to the door and left the room. He had no intention of hanging around now he felt well enough to stand.

Tyson prowled around the hospital, avoiding people and looking around somewhat curiously - yet still seeming to lack interest, somehow.
Finally, he found something that did interest him. He came to a closed door, and glanced briefly through the glass window - seeing a young boy lying in the bed. It was obvious that the child was hurt, and Ty simply could not fathom why he had been left unattended. He looked lonely, and perhaps a little scared.
Ty instantly took pity on him.
He let himself into the room, limped over to the bed, and sat down on the chair beside it. He gave a kind nod in greeting to the boy - for once not seeming as cold and aloof as he usually came across.
He thought for a moment, and an idea came to him. He couldn't do much for this boy, but since he was here, he would do what he could.
So Ty pulled out his notebook and pen, and began to draw. He frowned in concentration as he tried to work out exactly where to place the intricate designs. When he had finished, he folded the page into a paper aeroplane, and threw it - sending it whizzing around the room.
The boy seemed to like this, so Ty silently showed him how to do it himself - then sat back and watched patiently, seeming strangely peaceful and content.

I sprinted down the street, breathing heavily. After about a block, I realized how stupid it was; it wasn't like Jake was going to be out of the hospital any time soon. I slowed to a jog, and thought about what I would tell the nurse. I didn't want to go right out and say I was his sister; that could reap up lots of uneeded crap. I'd have to sneak in. I travelled another block and then the hospital was in sight. It was new; the old one had been bulldozed a while ago. The white building looked clean, crisp, and freshly painted. A billboard read Jackson Memorial Hospital. I came to the stairs and hurried up to the front door, entering the hospital quietly. There was nobody in sight; I peeked around the corner to see that there was a lady at the front desk, talking on a pager phone. "He's what!? She exclaimed. I was wondering who 'he' was when she spoke again. "Clothes and everything. So he was left alone to wander around the hospital?" The woman sighed. "I'll take a look around his floor." She left the front desk without any orders for someone to take over receptionist, and as soon as she rounded the next corner, I hurried to the front desk. Must be short staffed, I thought to myself, searching for a patient list. I skimmed over it, and was suprised to find a Tyson Retisant[?] on the list. I searched for a Jake Macneil, and soon found out that my brother was in room 101. I quicky put the clipboard back where I had found it and headed off for room 101. After a while of searching, I found the room. Tears were flowing from my eyes as soon as I spotted him. "Jake!" I sobbed, coming in and closing the door before running to him. I went to hug him, then thought better of it and instead brushed my lips to his forehead. Though he usually would have complained, he said nothing. He stared up at me, tears coming to his eyes as well. "You just left me there and didn't come back. I tried to do what she told me to do, honest!" He blubbered, and I shushed him. I was immediatley flooded with guilt. "I'm sorry," I whispered. When we were younger, I had sheilded him from many blows, making sure he spent lots of time at friend's houses and in after school activities. But I couldn't take it any more; I had left him... How could I of? "Everything will be alright." I mumured. I jumped when I noticed someone sitting in the chair. It was none other than Tyson, and I could see a bandage underneath his clothes, which were ripped. I focused on him for a moment. "You didn't bring anything back, did you?" I said softly. I had been living on the streets before; I knew how things worked in gangs, which was why after one unlucky experience, I avoided them. I turned my attention back to my brother. "What did she do?" I asked him. "The same thing she did to you... before you left," He said quietly. I tried to shake the memories, but it was too late as they came flooding back... The dark, dark cellar; the constant ping in my stomach; the beating whenever I screamed... "I tried to fight back, and then..." Jake looked confused. "I... I don't know what happened." I stroked his golden blonde hair, turning back to Tyson and immediatley feeling embarassed. "They're looking for you," I said, for I didn't know what else to say. How was I getting out of this mess? I knew I would, somehow...

Tyson looked up when he heard the door swing open, and was surprised to see Ada rushing in. Wow, it truly was a small world… Then again, he’d always known that. It was the exact reason that he did not like attracting attention to himself… But now Stix had stabbed him, he’d have to be more careful. News traveled fast on the streets – he knew that as a fact.
Tyson watched Ada for a moment as she approached the young boy, seeming very upset, then he looked away as they exchanged affectionate greetings. This was not his place. He stared aimlessly out of the window, though from where he was sitting he couldn’t see anything of interest. He did his best not to listen to the conversation between Ada and the boy he presumed was her brother, but he could not help but pick up the occasional snippet. From the sounds of things, Ada had run away from home. Perhaps that was why she had seemed to understand him so well back at the house… Anybody who could survive even a few days on the streets had no choice but to learn about the sort of lives that evolved out there. Somehow, he couldn’t picture a person as kind as Ada making it. That simply proved that appearances could be misleading… Or that he had got his assumptions all wrong.
Next thing he knew, Ada had turned to him and addressed him. She seemed to recognize him, though he really had no opinion on whether or not this was a good thing.
He noticed her gaze flick to the stab wound in his side, then heard her words wash over him – perhaps with a dash of sympathy. ”You didn't bring anything back, did you?”
So he had been right… She did understand after all.
Tyson shook his head, glancing down at the pen he was now twirling in his fingers. He needed something to do with his hands. It was a bad habit, but it was better than smoking… He had vowed never to pick up a habit as filthy as that. He had been well educated at one stage, after all. He was not the same as the rest of that lower-class street trash, and he would cling to that belief until it killed him. Which it damn near had, he reminded himself.
He sighed softly at the thought, wondering what he would do next time he bumped into Stix. This could be a problem…
Ty half-listened as Ada and her brother spoke – not really paying attention, but building a general idea of what was happening all the same. It seemed they’d had trouble… Possibly with their mother?
Ty’s trouble with his own mother had been different. She had never treated him badly… If anything, she’d been too kind to him and Lizzie. She’d turned them soft. But when their father had left, she seemed to forget how much she cared for them – if only for a minute. But a minute was all that is had taken for her to end her life – leaving Tyson and Lizzie alone to fend for themselves. Lizzie had never forgiven her. Tyson didn’t really care.
Suddenly, Ada turned back to him, and Ty met her gaze – his expression dull and inscrutable.
[I]”They’re looking for you.”[I]
Of course, he already knew that. She knew he knew, too. How could she not? It was obvious. He’d sneaked away, after all.
Still, he knew why she’d said that. He was not blunt nor stupid enough not to recognise his dismissal.
In all honesty, Ty had to admit to himself that he was a little disappointed, but then he reminded himself that Ada – no matter how kind she had seemed – had no reason whatsoever to tolerate his presence, just the same as everybody else.
He got to his feet and limped quietly over to the door, then paused for a moment and waved to the little boy in the bed. He had enjoyed spending time with him. He was a good kid…
And with that thought in mind, Tyson left the room and let the door click softly shut behind him.
But now, of course, he was in something of a pickle. He could not afford hospital bills. He knew it, Lizzie knew it. That was obviously why she’d taken off – unless she’d hooked up with some unsuspecting med-student in the on-call room again. Either way, he knew she’d be expecting him to get out of this mess on his own. The question was: How?

Suddenly, Ty got to his feet and limped to the door. I was immediatley confused. Had I said something? I thought over what I had said, and was flooded with guilt once more. Stupid. For one, wandering around the hospital will just get him caught. And he probably doesen't have anyone to talk to. I wondered if he even wanted someone to talk to - he didn't seem to care about a lot of things. Sighing quietly, I turned my attention back to my brother. Do you know how long they need to keep you here?" I asked him. He shook his head. "But they said I wasn't hurt all that bad, and that I would be out of the hospital in a jiffy." I smiled at his word choice. "You know I can't stay here. They'll fine me soon enough." It broke my heart to say this to Jake, but it was true. He looked just a bit disapointed. "You'll come back, right?" He said worriedly. "I will. I won't ever leave you again," I promised, wanting to pick him up and hold him close. I looked out the window to see Tyson in the hallway, and a nurse just rounding the next corner. "Love you," I whispered to him. "Get some rest." I slipped out quietly, making no sound as I watched his close his eyes. I stayed there for a moment too long, watching him doze off. "Tyson?" I said quietly. "Are you going back in your room, or getting out?" I asked. Maybe, it would be possible that I could help him sneak out; it wouldn't be right, but I was almost sure that Tyson and his siter had no money for hospital bills. I though about offering to let them stay at my house, but I quickly forgot about it. The girl would probably just be intent on stealing my possesions if I did that, and Tyson probably wouldn't care. And in what sort of twisted universe would they want to stay at my house? I brushed off my thoughts, leaning against the door to my brother's bedroom. "That's Jake, my brother. My mother - " Why was I going on again? Nobody cares, I snapped at myself. I had been told enough times already, by myself and others; why couldn't I get the point? Because almost everyone wants to feel like someone cares.

”Tyson?” Hearing his name called, Ty turned around, and was surprised to see Ada speaking to him. He had thought she was trying to get rid of him… He frowned slightly, a thoughtful expression creeping over his face. "Are you going back in your room, or getting out?" Ty gnawed softly on his lip, considering the question. After a few moments of contemplation, he whipped out his notebook and wrote a single word: out. With a click of his pen, he flipped it closed again, yet he did not turn to leave right away. He stood where he was, shifting his weight uncertainly from foot to foot and wondering if he should stay a moment longer, or if he’d better off just walking away. It was hard to tell… Hard to decide.
Then Ada saved him the trouble by speaking again. "That's Jake, my brother. My mother - "
Ah, so the little boy’s name was Jake! And his assumptions had been right. He was Ada’s brother, and their mother had caused some sort of trouble… But what?
He took out his notepad to ask, but then the sound of footsteps caught his attention.
He scribbled a hurried note – scratching the untidy words in record time – Then slapped it into Ada’s hand and fled the scene.
The damp ink smudged slightly on the crumpled page, yet the words were still visible… Barely.
I’d feel honoured to hear that story, some time.
As the nurse stepped into the corridor, Ty vanished around the corner, instantly ceasing his noisy sprint and sneaking stealthily onwards. He had no idea how to get out…
Creeping slowly along the corridor, Ty listened carefully to his surroundings, and soon came the sound he dreaded to hear: More footsteps.
Without pausing to think, he flung open the door beside him and leaped through it, slamming it shut.
The place smelled damp and dusty, and it did not take Ty long to realise that he was hiding in an old broom cupboard. It was dirty, and he didn’t like it, but he could still hear people moving outside.
And he was so tired….
Ty slowly slipped to the ground, clutching his wounded side and wincing slightly. His face was pale, and his fingers shook slightly from where they gripped the bandage, which now showed the first faint hints of blood soaking through.