"It's okay," I manage to utter in a groggy voice as they poked at me and backed away, "I'm just a kid like you." Looking up, I saw that the sun had already risen; I had slept in again. Judging by their small, surprised faces, they couldn't be more than five or six years old. "Please don't run away... Please don't tell on me," I beg of them with the most pathetic puppy face I can manage, for though it was in complete sincerity the situation remained that it was morning, and these unassuming children had woken me up. "Why are you in our trees?" the tallest child demands. She is small, Asian, with glimmering shoulder-length black hair and three or four teeth missing. Her slanted dark brown eyes glare at me as she cocks her head to one side and glues her fist to her hip in impatience. "I am in the school's trees," I reply, "because I had to sleep here last night. This was the only place I knew to go. Please don't tell on me, I'm just a kid like you." Her gaze begins to soften, as all the other children stand, still in awe at discovering a hobo in the trees at their elementary school. Refocusing my eyes and putting my glasses on in an attempt to look a little more presentable (if that is possible - I am fully aware of the dirt and twigs in my hair from sleeping on the dusty ground beneath the cover of the pine trees), I address the children again, trying to explain the situation in terms they could understand. "My parents were too angry and said I couldn't sleep in the house anymore. I know they'll stop being angry after a little while, but right away I just had to go for a little while. I'm only staying here because I can't be at home like I'm supposed to. I'm going to go back as soon as they learn to stop being angry--" and as I speak these words, the children begin wandering off to class, for the first bell has rung and at their early age it is a terrible thing to be late for school. All except the leader. Still she stands over me, though now with a new look in her eyes, and gives me an expectant look. "Well?" she requests, and I oblige. "Well, it didn't feel safe at home last night, or the night before, and besides they told me I should leave, so I did. I miss them, but I can't stay there if all I'm going to do is scream and cry. I'm going to go back, really I am... I think..." and in the blink of an eye, I have started crying. Baring my soul to this beautiful little girl under the 9:30 am sun beneath the pine trees may not be the best thing to do, but it is my only option. "I really don't know what's going to happen... I don't know if they'll even let me come home. I just wish I could sleep in my own bed, but I can't. So please don't tell on me. Please." I look up at the little girl, and see through the tears welled up in my eyes that she is forming some tears of her own. She looks at me for a while, and then kneels down to look me in the eye. Turning my head upward from my elbow-propped position, I gaze right back at her, and the expectation transfers to me. After a few more moments of silence, she squeakily whispers, "Can I live with you for a while?"