Regret was the most accurate word you could use to describe what Bailey felt after two years of living on her own, if one would even call it living.
She had escaped her previously ruined life but had stepped right into one that was seemingly worse. At only 17 years old, Bailey was homeless. Being a child on the streets, people gave her money out of pity. She used that money to travel from her hometown in Iowa to Elysium, Oregon. Looking into it, she saw how cheap it was to live there and worked towards traveling to the small city, taking bus and train rides little by little. She was beyond excited to start a new, "easy" life. She didn't take into consideration how difficult things would be getting her life together at such a young age, especially by herself.
She couldn't get a job because she didn't have a home and she didn't have any money besides the cash that people gave to her on the streets. She wasn't sure what she was expecting; she left her home with no plan, no money, and no ID. She had clothing and bedding from previous locations she'd been, so she stayed warm and managed to stay fed with the amount of people that brought her food on a daily basis.
Being in an area like Elysium was a bad influence for Bailey. She didn't have to buy food and she didn't need to buy her basic necessities very often. With cash in her pocket and having to fall asleep in the same alleys as druggies, Bailey quickly got pulled into the drug scene. She was too young to start selling, but she sure did buy a lot. She had nobody there for her, she never did. Running from home did nothing but make her life worse; she no longer has a roof over her head and she has no sense of security. The only time she ever got a break from the anxiety was when she was on a high of some sort: weed, cocaine, MDMA, you name it and Bailey was doing it. It was the only thing that brought her a sense of joy, even if the high only lasted an hour.
The drugs made her lose weight rapidly and she became extremely fatigued. She looked much older than she was with her pink hair nearly entirely faded away and her skin taking the effects of the drugs. She was scarily skinny as the drugs eliminated her appetite. She was sick and she needed help, but she lost hope for herself, so she continued to abuse drugs.
Bailey was in the worst position that anyone in Elysium could be in. Most of the other people that fled to the small city had much better experiences, for example, Christie.
Christie also ended up in Elysium. It was a small place with very little police presence. It was very peaceful in the city, it was very quiet for the most part, and the natural beauty of Oregon was very intriguing for Christie. She was from Pennsylvania and traveled to different cities in the course of two years to find somewhere that fit her needs. Elysium was perfect for her.
Christie got settled in a small yet high-quality apartment and got a good job as a secretary for the owner of a well-known company. She made good money and was able to start a new, happy life. Despite her financial success, she was also able to continue in the underground anarchist scene. To avoid her identity being revealed, she changed her public name at those events to Dahlia and wore a black mask that covered her entire face. She regained her platform and continued to spread awareness about the governments wrongdoings.
She never contacted her mom, but she still checked in on her every once in a while. Christie had made entirely new social medias under the name Dahlia to avoid being recognized by people she may have previously known. She wanted an entirely new life, but a new life comes with new personality.
Christie built a protective shell around herself. She didn't trust anybody, she conceal-carried no matter where she was, she tried to avoid going outside by herself, and took many extra unnecessary safety precautions.
On one cold night, Christie had stayed late at work because her boss needed some extra things handled. She told him she didn't want to be out late; she was anxious when she walked home alone in the dark.
