"Oh, Kid," he lamented. She was so innocent. He could see her reactions to the chaos around her. He envied her in a way, at least his old self would have. Things went swimmingly until he turned 18. Liver cancer. That was the diagnosis for his mother. His father was never around. When he turned into a teenager he ran with a bunch of friends who weren't exactly a gang, but maybe miscreants. Shoplifting was definitely high on the list. Whenever and wherever they could, they shoplifted small items; candy, chips, magazines. When they got older, they moved onto the liquor, cigarettes, cigars, and big ticket items. He was the only one that he knew of the old gang who was not in jail. Not that there wasn't a single cop around now who wasn't influenced by or in the pocket of Rotti Largo.
Still, the cops weren't the big fear around here. The Repo men. He knew about them all too well. The transplant went swimmingly, but cleaned out what little savings his mother had tried to keep. She missed the one payment and the rest was history. He was a street rat now. No point in returning to the apartment where his mother was murdered. He was nearly this kid's age. She ducked around gravestones as the men gave chase and he picked up his booty. He had no name now. He was only known by Amber Sweet as the Graverobber. No ties to the past, to whatever and whoever he used to run with. No, there was no point. Live for today and profit what you can. He himself dodged behind gravestones, and avoided the glaringly bright spotlights. He ducked and stuck a needle into a body extracting his hard day's work. Zydrate. Everyone was hooked on it. Even the illustrious Amber Sweet. Things became more chaotic around him. It would not do to get caught like this. He could end up in the next repo rag as an example.
He needed to get out of here. "This way kid!" He shouted. Man, he was so dead if he couldn't make his way out of this graveyard. He picked up a dead body and used it as a battering ram. Hopefully, this wall would give way. "Jack pot!" Unbeknownst to him a treasure trove of dead bodies had lain just behind the wall. He'd be able to return so many times and retrieve his bounteous booty. Oh man, he'd get so much tail from Amber. Maybe he could turn the kid, too. He might as well get it where he could. She was probably a first-timer. Oh yes, definitely a first timer. But before one thing could lead to another he needed to gain her trust. Maybe give a free hit, especially now that he'd found his little goldmine. What was that? She was saying something. Something about outside? She wasn't supposed to be outside? Oh dear, she was ill. Well one could tell just by looking. She was a little thing, a wisp of a girl. Half of her hair hid her face. Dimly he wondered what her sort was doing here, then the answer presented itself. She was here by mistake, not for a hit of stuff or a scary story. Oh well. Things were how they were.
Well now, what was this? The Repo Man had turned up. And he was defending her. That was a change. Typically, Mr. Repo was the first to prey on the weak, second only to Graverobber here. It looked like she was covered then. Sorry kid, this was his cue to leave. Maybe they'd cross paths again. What was that little old saying? He who runs away blah, blah, blah another day. Yes that was it. Or something near as like to it. Well today he was running so that could most definitely live it up for another day. That's been this half of his life so far; and so far it's worked. And on that cue Graverobber ducked neatly out of site, returning to the ally with his ill-gotten gains.