"It's true what they say about children"

It is true what they said about children, they can sense evil. I can see it in her shifty eyes. In they way she backed herself against the dumpster. She is behaving like a hunted animal.
Clever girl.
For being so young, she is intuitive. Puberty is starting to show her femininity. Another year, perhaps, she could catch a pretty penny on the street if her purpose be bent that direction. Through the thin dress the small buds of breasts were apparent.
Either the wet pavement or simple fear caused her little body to begin trembling. Her faced was sucked in and her exposed limbs were thinning. The flesh hung from her where meat once was. She’ll last maybe a sip or two. It would be a mercy killing. This little creature will not last one winter out here.
I step forward about six steps, obviously making noise. She jerks at the sound of my scuffling. She backs up further, almost putting herself between the dumpster and the wall. I can faintly hear her sobbing.
She was a lost child, who probably wondered from her parents in the city and ended up here. A face on a milk carton. A milk carton disposed of without a second glance at the smiling school picture on the side.
For her, hope locked the door behind her.
Standing in the dim light of the alley, I allow her to take in my visage. 5’10” female with waist length dark brown hair (because of the wind I have it tied up in a French twist) and hazel eyes. Black boot cut pants and a deep purple blouse beneath a black long coat. Cliché I know, but that is my style. Looking into her eyes I see fear and hope. I figure she isn’t too sure whether to run from me or to me.
It was then I caught the scent of another of my kind. Not far, probably watching me from a nearby rooftop. Such was my lot. I was created without permission. I was spared from the sunlight, but exist under a heavy weight of rules. Eventually I have to prove myself to the prince of the city. Save his unlife or performs some “act of kindness” for him as token of my faith and loyalty. It was like living in the Mob.
I turned my attention back to the girl before me. She, luckily, had not sensed the intruder, nor my attention to him. Suddenly I didn’t want to be there, in that dank and disgusting alley.
“Let’s get you some food and clothing, huh.” I offered my hand to her. The girl shuddered more violently and still watched me. “If you don’t take my hand you’ll surely die.”  Distantly I heard soft chuckling.
The girl looked at me and then slowly climbed to her feet.
“What are you doing in an alley.” She asked softly. I stifled a chuckle myself and shrugged.
“Got lost.” She smiled, I knew I had her.
“Me too.” She took my hand.
“Let’s go.” I led her out of the alley and down the street a few blocks before hailing a cab. When we reached my house she grinned.
“You really got lost.” I laughed.
“Yes I did.” My house was no mansion. It was a modest three-bedroom home with a modest size backyard and a small basement. There were several large trees in front of the house as well as in the backyard. It was all really private. The way I like it, even when I was alive.
Walking in from the rain was nice. The heater was on and even to my dead flesh it felt good. My answering machine’s light was blinking “4”. I looked at my watch. On time. As a punishment, I receive phone calls from others in town. Keeping tabs on me. Probably why I was followed tonight.