friend: so, what type of guys are you into?
me: fictional, mostly.
Hail and farewell
We are dust and shadows
Fire tests gold
The law is hard but it is the law
The descent to hell is easy
Past and Present
Past and Present
By: Laces
It was a wrong number that started it, the telephone ringing three times in the dead of night, and the voice on the other end asking for someone he was not.
“Stop calling me!” he screamed into the phone, after the third time the woman called.
“I’m sorry, Colin.”
“I’m not Colin! For the hundredth time, my name is Charles. C-H-A-R-L-E-S! Not Colin!”
“Colin, you sound unlike yourself, do you have a cold?” questioned the woman in a very concerned voice.
“I do not have a cold and I. Am. Not. Colin!” Charles exclaimed. He was urged to hang up, but he knew that if he did, she would just call again. The nonsense had been going on ever since he moved in five days ago.
“It’s the flu, isn’t it?” the woman sighed sadly. “I thought you would have at least a jacket with you.” Sleep was starting to get the better of him, and his temper was wearing thin.
“Lady, you got the wrong number, now quit calling me!” Charles shouted then hung up.
He took in a deep breath and ran his fingers through his short chestnut colored hair, trying to calm himself down.
Charles soaked in the silence of his room and yawn. His green eyes looked over at the clock to see that it read: 2:32 am.
Maybe that would be it for the night. Maybe he could get some rest.
Ring. Ring.
Charles sighed and reluctantly picked up the phone.
“Hello?” he questioned tiredly.
“Colin? Dear, you still sound sick. Would you like some soup?” Charles sighed heavily. Five days he had be dealing with this woman by screaming at her, but he decided to take a different approach. Maybe he could get her to let him sleep peacefully by playing along.
“No thanks. I don’t need any soup.” he informed, taking a gentle tone. “What’s your name again?” he asked, as if he knew it, but just couldn’t pull it from the air.
“Why, don’t you remember darling? It’s Aunt Harley.”
“Ah, yes. Aunt Harley, it’s been awhile, hasn’t it?” Charles laughed.
“Of course it has Colin, ever since you went off to war. What a dreadful thing. I only found out recently that you were back in the states.”
“War? I mean, yes. The war.” nodded Charles.
“Oh Colin, I’m so glad that you’re back. You must visit me. I insist. You still remember my address, don’t you?” Harley questioned.
“Umm… well…”
“Oh, of course not, you’ve been overseas for years, how could I ask you to remember such a thing?” she chuckled to herself.
“It’s 19553 Edison way. Still in Pennsylvania. I love you Colin, and I cannot wait to see you soon.” she laughed with delight, and the phone went silent.
Charles sighed and hung up the phone, then sunk into the mattress of his bed.
“Great.” he grumbled. Part of him told him to stay home and not visit the woman, or as she called herself, “Aunt Harley.” but he then thought to himself,
Maybe if I see her, I can clear up the whole thing and she’ll stop calling me. Before he could ponder the thought any longer, he drifted to sleep, exhausted by the long night.
The next morning, Charles stood from his bed, got changed into a simple t-shirt, jeans, and loafers, and styled his hair so that it was combed neatly back. He then went to mapquest and received the directions to 19553 Edison Way.
“I must be crazy.” he sighed, and hopped into his car.
As he drove, he couldn’t help but wonder who the woman exactly was, and why she kept calling him Colin.
He didn’t know any Colins and wasn’t related to any. Furthermore, the person who owned the house before him was a woman named Edna.
After about forty five minutes on the road, he had finally reached Harley’s house. Or at least what was left of it.
In front of him stood a decrepit building where fire marks scorched the sides and about only half the house was still standing,
“What?” he muttered in bewilderment, surprised at what he saw.
“Better watch out son, that place’s haunted. Full of ‘em spirits.” said an older man with white hair and eyes hidden behind thick glasses as he walked by.
“What do you mean by haunted?” inquired Charles. The old man chucked, happy to spread the towns lore and to just talk, as all older people seemed pleased to do.
“In that house, there used to live this woman named Harley Haywood. Story goes that she had no kin except for her nephew, a young boy about your age named Colin.” he explained. “When World War II broke out, Colin enlisted and Harley was sad to see him go. He was like a son to her. However, Colin promised her that he’d come back.”
“Let me guess.” Charles sighed. “He died in the war.”
“No no. He did come back a few years later. The war had ended and Colin came back to the states. He stayed at a house in York not so far from here.”
Charles eyes widened. The names were the same and he lived in a house in York.
“But…” Charles tried to question, but the old man shushed him.
“I ain’t gotten to the good stuff yet.” the man said in excitement. “Colin had came back to the states and sent a friend to go to Harley and tell her that he was back, while he tried to fix his phone that he broke. But that night, Colin had a stroke and died.”
Charles felt the air got knocked out of him. Colin had died in what was most likely his house.
“The very next day, Harley had gotten the news that her nephew was back. She rushed to her phone to call him, but in her excitement she accidentally knocked over a candle that was near her curtains, but she didn’t notice. She was too overjoyed about talking to her nephew. But as the phone rang on the line and Harley waited anxiously to talk to Colin, the fire turned into an inferno, and Harley died in that fire, still holding the phone.” he explained sadly.
“That’s… that’s awful.” Charles whispered as he looked up at the building.
“People say that at night, they can hear her voice, like she’s talking to Colin on the phone. Crazy right?” the old man laughed.
“Yeah.” nodded Charles. “Crazy.”
That night, as Charles got into bed, the phone started to ring and he timidly picked it up.
“Hello?” he questioned.
“Colin?” a woman’s voice inquired and Charles smiled slightly.
“Yes Aunt Harley?”
“Oh Colin, honey. Why didn’t you drop by today?” she inquired.
“Sorry. My car broke down.” Charles informed.
“I hope it gets fixed soon.” Harley stated, then took a lighter tone. “So how was your day besides the car breaking down?”
“It was fine Aunt Harley.” Charles nodded.
“Well that’s great to hear darling.”
Free Writes
Freewrite #4
Today’s freewrite has no structure what-so-ever! RANDOM WORDS!!!
OOF!
Feliz cumplanos!
Hola, mi llamo Dallas!
FLASH! BIFF!!!
Why is this not cursive?
La la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la!
FREE weeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee
WRITE weeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee
~OF~
FREEDOM!
Wonder Woman!
BANANA!
WOOOHOOO!
SUPERMAN!
Hello. Manic free writes are fun. How are you? I’m alright. I’m actually kind of bored. That’s a weird word. Kinda. Kinda. Kind. A. kinda. Kinda? Kin-da? Ki-n-da? Ki-n-d-a? WRITNG IN SMALL PLACES! Kinda. Kinda. Kinda. I kinda use the word kinda a lot. Weird, but I’m a weird person.
BLACK CANARY! ROBIN!
BAM! SHAZAM!
Hi!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (Captain Marvel)
Senior! Fiesta!
Get it right Congress! If you are calling a tomato a vegetable because of the tomato
paste then you are WRONG!
Tomatoes are fruit!
Yup.
BECAUSE THIS IS AMERICA AND PORTION SIZES ARE
HUGE AND PIZZA IS A VEGATABLE!!! True story bro.
I get so annoyed when people mess up the order of the Robins. IT’S EASY!
Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, Tim Drake, Stephanie Brown, Damian Wayne, and sometimes Carrie Kelly.
Gaelic- Shuil a run
German- Ich Libe dich
Spanish- Hola! I ALWAYS FEEL LIKE SOMEBODY’S WATCHING ME!!
Portuguese- Cirandero
Italian- se tu ma mi
Hebrew- erev shol shanim
Latin- exultate deo
French- lu long du que gran bersxou
Japaneese- conichiwa (sp?)
Chinesse- Ni Hoa
Pig latin- ex nay
Text speak- lol <3
Nerd Speak- Did you see how on Tatooine lea was a total bothan bounty hunter in Jabas palace while Han Solo was frozen in carbinite!
Shakespearian- I banished thee!
Backward speak- ym eman si Aivilo
English- Yup random languages
I wanna wish you a merry christmas
In Brightest Day
In Blackest Night
No evil shall escape my sight
For those who worship evil’s might
Beware my power…
GREEN LANTERNS LIGHT!!!!!
Just writing on the side cuz I got nothing better to do. This is a LONG freewrite. OOH EEE OOOH AHH AHH TING TANG WALLA WALLA BING BANG! OOH EE OOH AHH AHH TING TANG WALLA WALLA BING BANG!
I’m going home.
NO DAN! STOP READING MY PAPER!
Free writes
Yeah… my creative writer says something and we jst go with it. I personally love my free writes and where they take me. :)
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Freewrite #1
Wow, I can see C.S Lewis and J.R.R Toilken just chilling and reading the passages, seeing who’d laugh first.
For some reason I can see that being some sort of drinking game for them.
For every alliteration, you take a shot.
For every time you laugh at an alliteration, you take three shots.
Yup, I can se C.S Lewis and J.R.R Toilken being good friends and getting very drunk together.
I wonder if Toilen was like,
“Hey C.S, whatcha writng?” and C.S could be all,
“I’m writing a story about four children who walk into a wardrobe into a land ruled by a white whitch when it should be ruled by a lion. What about you” then Toilken is all,
“I’m writing about a land with hobbits and elves and there’s a ring that makes people full of want.”
“Whoa, Bro that’s cool.”
“I know right.”
“Wouldn’t it be cool of our books became world acclaimed and then later on would be turned into movies?” C.S would ask.
“Yeah,” J.R.R would nod, “That would be cool. I bet my book would be turned into a movie first.”
“No way.” C.S would say.
“I will bet you one hundred dollars.” J.R.R would say with a sly smile.
“You’re on!”
Somewhere in Heaven, C.S Lewis would probably be all,
“You win. *sigh*” Poor C.S Lewis.
But yeah, I could see the two being the best of friends.
They’d go girl hunting together and be all:
“There’s a 7 at eight o’clock.”
“C.S turn around! There’s a ten behind you!”
And the two would go to bars together and drink. I wonder which one out of the two of them would be the designated driver. Maybe C.S because he’s been known for being all saint like for making all those hints how his books correlate with Jesus. Or maybe J.R.R was an alcoholic and then gave up on alcohol all together so he’d be the designated driver. Maybe both of them would get drunk and they didn’t have a designated driver. Then the two would stagger home drunk and maybe they’d fall asleep in a ditch or something and then wake up the next morning all confused saying,
“Why are my pants on my head?” or,
“Where did this banana come from?”
Yup, they’d the very best of friends. They should have their own T.V show, similar to Drake and Josh and I Love Lucy. It’d be called:
‘The Lewis and Toilken Show!’
TADA!!!!
And the show would go about showing how good friends the two young yet to be famous authors would be, and they would be having life lessons along the way.
Maybe they then had a small spin-off series about how the 4 children go through the wardrobe and end up near Mordor, and how Aslin and Gandolf would have to unite their troops and Armies to form a resistance because the al seeing eye and the white witch hooked up!
DUN DUN DUN!!!
… I’d watch it.
The Voices
My creative writing teacher wanted me to write a story using the first scentence i picked from a pile.
I love the guy who wrote this first scentence. :D
Needless to say, i like freaking out my creative writing teacher. :)
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Voices
The voices told me to do it.
I cannot understand why people always tell me to simply not listen to them, as if it were as easy as turning off a light switch. It isn’t so easy as you may believe.
Like every morning, I’ll wake up and I’ll say to myself, “Hey, I want some Orange Juice.” But my voices don’t like Orange juice. They never have and honestly that bugs me.
They will tell me in their small persuasive voices,
“Get milk.” But I never want milk. I want orange juice. All I ever want is orange juice. Why can’t I have orange juice!?
I want to ask my voices but they don’t listen. They never listen to me. Why don’t they listen? I wish they did listen because maybe if they did my life would be easier. I think everyone wishes for a better life. Your life is better than mine.
Every morning high pitched screeches echo throughout my head commanding me to drink milk and not orange juice. It starts out in a low mumble, but when I ignore it, the voices grow so loud that it makes me want to rip my hair out. It’s a high whining sound that can only be described as nails on a chalk board mixed with a screaming baby.
So I listen to them. I am only their puppet doing their commands.
People hear me talking to the voices and give me strange looks. I don’t understand why they don’t like me. I’m fine. I am a perfectly normal teenaged kid, right? Who cares about the voices?
Well… maybe some people care. My voices tell me that I shouldn’t mind, but I do mind.
I wish people didn’t care about the voices. You don’t care about the voices, do you? I hope not.
The voices are advising me right now not to talk to you about this. They are saying to me,
“This is a total stranger. Why are you talking to them? Stop talking. Stop talking! STOP TALKING! STOP TALKING!”
Such an annoying headache. But I want to talk to you. I really want to talk to you. Please understand me. I hope that you will. I’m normal. I promise you, I’m the most normal human being you could ever have contact with.
Shut up.
No, not you. Anyway, the voices don’t get in the way with too much. Really, I’m not lying. I promise I am completely sane and in control.
The voices told me so. They can be nice sometimes too y’know.
And the voices were the ones who told me to lock your date in the closet three days ago. They made me do it. But they told me that your date would be fine, even when I threw the keys out, which again, the voices told me to do.
But now that your date is gone… well… I was wondering…
Will you go to prom with me?
Little Red
Chpt.2
Livy slowly blinked her eyes open and immediately felt warm. Warmth was something that she wasn’t used to feeling, but it comforted her.
She notice that she was lying on a couch, and on top of her was a thick warm blanket. In front of her was a crate that acted as a table with some cinnamon raison bread resting on it along with a cup of water.
Livy sat up, keeping the blanket wrapped around her and she stared at the food, feeling her stomach rumble.
“Is this for me?” she questioned in a whisper, hunger was in her voice since she had gone without food the entire day.
“Yes.” stated a voice, and she jumped in surprise. The man who she was trying to mug was standing behind the couch.
Livy looked at the food, then up at him, her eyes filled with uncertainty.
The man walked from around the couch, pulled up another crate and sat across from her, the food in-between the two.
“Eat, I promise it’s not poisoned.” He smiled genuinely, and Livy started to worry. Nobody was ever kind to her while she was staying with Jacob. Things like this would usually end up being a trick, to taunt her. However, her stomach gave another low growl.
Livy timidly reached out her hand to the food, while glancing nervously at the man, and then grasped the bread, and brought it up to her mouth.
She gave the food an unsure sniff, looking at it critically, and then she took a small bite.
Livy had been living off of the scraps that Jacob would give her which meant moldy bread, spoiled meat, rotten fruits and vegetables, and old Chinese food. The fresh cinnamon and raison bread made her taste buds soar, and she ate as fast as she could.
“Hey, slow down Little Red Riding Hood, there’s more where that came from.” The man chuckled as he watched as she almost choked on the bread from eating it too fast.
“Why do you call me that?” she inquired through mouthfuls of food.
“Because of your cloak.” He informed as he pointed to Livy’s tattered red cloak with a hood that was meant for covering her head. “Have you ever heard of the story of little red riding hood?” he inquired, and Livy shook her head.
“Well, I also don’t know your name. What is it?” he questioned, and Livy looked at him, very unsure whether to tell him her name or not.
Well, what can he do with my name anyway? He can’t do anything. I’m sure there’s millions of Livys out there.
“Livy.” She informed softly.
“Livy what?” he pried, raising an eyebrow.
“I dunno. My mommy’s last name was Farmer, but she wasn’t my real mommy.” Livy informed as she continued to devour the food, causing her to burp, but the man could care less for table manners.
“My name is Jason Todd.” He informed as he extended his hand to shake.
Livy looked at his hand, and sighed, then reluctantly handed him her bread that she was eating.
“Sorry.” She pouted.
Jason couldn’t stop himself from laughing. Between breaths of laughter he handed Livy the bread back, but she was puzzled why he was laughing at her.
“Livy, when someone extends their hand like this, it means that they want you to shake it.” He informed, once he was able to control his laughter. He then extended his hand again.
Livy slowly reached her small hand out and wrapped it around his large hand and shook it, trying to remember how her mother had shook hands with people.
“See? Not so hard, right?” Jason chuckled. “It’s nice to meet you, Livy.”
“It’s nice to meet you too, Jason Todd.” Livy nodded, and he released her hand.
“Livy, have you ever patched up a gunshot wound before?” he inquired curiously and Livy shrugged.
“I watched my mommy do it a lot. She was a nurse, and guys who got shot would always come to my house, and my mommy and I would help them. We had to move a lot because the police didn’t like my mommy helping out the guys who would show up at our house, but they paid my mommy a lot of money. My mommy would show me how to help heal people cuz she said it could come in handy.” She informed with a shrug.
Jason nodded his head. He understood what Livy meant when she said that her mother was a nurse. Her mother was a doctor that gangsters and mob bosses could go to to get patched up without any medical records being filed.
“So Livy, do you consider yourself a good nurse?” he inquired and she shrugged as she ripped off a large piece of the bread, and gulped some water to help it go down her throat.
“I guess so, but once mommy died the men who came to her didn’t want to come to me for help. They don’t think I’m as smart as my mommy.” She frowned, thinking about the conversations she had with those men, and how they would say that she couldn’t do much for them.
“Then prove yourself.” Jason smirked.
“What do you mean?” Livy inquired as she finished eating the last of her bread.
Jason unraveled the makeshift bandage that Livy had wrapped around his shoulder, and revealed his wound. It was gruesome, but the nine year old only looked at it as if it was a scratch.
“I have the medicine and equipment. Do you think you can patch me up?” he questioned, and Livy looked at his wound with critical eyes.
“Do you have iodine and a needle?” she inquired.
~*~*~*~*~Two Hours Later~*~*~*~*~
“I have got to say Livy, you patched me up pretty good.” Jason nodded as he looked at his stitched up wound.
“Thank you.” Livy said with a small smile, proud of her work. “Just try not to move your shoulder that much. It still needs time to heal.” She informed, and Jason chuckled at how grown up the nine year old was acting, but then got more serious.
“Who was watching after you after your mom died?” he questioned, and Livy’s proud face dropped.
“This douche bag named Jacob. I have to steal stuff if I want to eat and sleep.” She frowned, and Jason raised an eyebrow.
“Do you like working for him?” Livy shook her head.
“No. I don’t earn my keep much because I don’t like stealing, so they don’t treat me to well.” She sighed as she thought back to what Jacob and his friends would do to her.
She would receive beatings almost daily, and was often bleeding somewhere on her body once they were done.
Jacob and his friends didn’t feel like that had much power, but when beating Livy, they had all the power in the world.
Jason’s eyes rested on some of the blood that was stained in Livy’s hair.
“Well, Livy, I need a nurse.” He informed. “I get beaten pretty bad because of my work. Sure, I can patch myself up on my own, but it’s not very fun.”
“Your nurse?” she inquired, slightly intrigued.
“Yes. If I get hurt, you can patch me up. You can stay with me, and I’ll make sure you have shelter and food. Good food. You do not have to steal. I can even get you some medical books if you’d like.” He smiled, and Livy thought about it for a second.
“And you wouldn’t hurt me?” she questioned. Jason smiled at the girl.
“Not a single hair on your head.” Livy grinned as she felt happy for the first time in years. She was finally away from Jacob, and even better, she felt like she could be a help.
Helping people with injuries was what she always wanted to do. She felt like her mom would be proud of her.
“When can I start?”
Little Red
Story: Little Red
Rated: PG 13
Summary: Livy is just a street kid with some talents intresting red hood.
Please enjoy! :D
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Chapter 1
Livy flinched as she felt the fist hit her square in the gut. Her brown eyes were screwed shut, and she grunted as she felt the next blow. She was stuck in a man’s hold as his friend continued to beat her as hard as he could.
“I-I’m sorry!” Livy exclaimed, and her beatings stopped.
“You better be Livy. Remember, if it wasn’t for me, you’d have no place to stay. You’d have nothing, and you’d be nothing. Next time I tell you to mug a person you do it.” He sneered as his friend loosened his grip on her.
“Jacob, the woman had a kid. I couldn’t mug her.” Livy sighed. Jacob glared down at the girl.
She had braided blond hair that was a messy with some dried blood mixed into it from her being hit on the head too hard. She was unnatural thin, due to malnutrition. She was filthy head to toe due to not being able to bathe often, and she wore a dirty yellow shirt with torn overalls. For warmth, and secrecy, she wore a red cape with a hood. Altogether, she looked weak, however, Jacob knew how strong and cunning she could be if she wanted to.
Unfortunately for him, she didn’t enjoy stealing.
“You look pathetic.” He growled. “If you want to come back to the hide out for a place to sleep tonight, bring me something you stole off of someone, and it better be worth a lot. You need to earn your keep.” Jacob sneered and then stalked off, along with his friend.
Livy was nine years old, and felt a lone in the universe. However, she knew that she needed to stay strong.
Someday thing’s’ll be better for me. I know it. She thought to herself as she coughed up some blood. She frowned as she looked at her blood that was coming from her mouth.
“Stupid Jacob.” She grumbled. “I’ll get him his damn money and then I’ll sleep. Sleep sounds nice. There’s that yellow blanket and that pillow at the hideout. It’s so warm, and fuzzy. I can’t wait to sleep.” She ramble to herself.
Livy often felt alone and so she felt the need to talk to herself.
Livy picked herself up, and limped for a few steps. She then stood up as straight as she could and started to run, looking for some money to steal.
Her eyes locked on a young man wearing a leather jacket with black hair. He looked like he would be the type to carry around a few hundred dollar bills.
She knew she needed to get closer to him. she followed him as he turned into city alleyways and at times she needed to run to keep up with him. It was as if he knew he was being followed.
At last, Livy saw an opening where she could run past him, grab the outline of the wallet that was in the man’s pocket, and slip away into the shadows.
She made a dash, got a grasp of the man’s wallet and ran.
“Hey!” the man exclaimed, and was easily able to pick Livy’s outline out from the shadows which surprised the girl.
Livy ran as fast as she could, running through alleys and trying to hide. She could hear her heart thudding loudly in her ears.
She turned into one alley, and was relieved to look behind her and see that the man was no longer following her.
However, as soon as she slowed down, a hand grabbed her from the shadows. Her mouth was covered by the big hand and she could feel a knife on her throat.
“Gotcha little red riding hoo-” Livy elbowed the man in the gut, and tried to struggle out of his grip as she yelled against his hand.
“Mmmmph!”
“Do you want to die? Because all I have to do is press down and your throat is slit.” The man growled, and Livy stopped struggling.
“Now, if I move my hand, do you promise me that you won’t scream?” he inquired. Livy frantically nodded her head, and she felt the hand move away from her mouth.
“Please let me go.” She whispered but the man’s grip stayed consistent.
“No.” he stated bluntly. “Now, why were you mugging me?”
“I- I can’t tell you.” She stated firmly.
“Really?” he questioned as Livy could feel a trickle of blood run down her neck, and she had to hold back a whimper. “Are you sure about that?”
“I just want to be able to sleep.” Livy whispered. “It’s been a long day, and if I don’t bring back money to the hide out, then I’m not earning my keep, and I have nowhere to go.”
Livy felt the knife move away from her throat, and she was turned around to face the man. His blue eyes were locked on her.
“So you mugged me so you could have a place to stay?” he questioned, and Livy nodded her head. “Well, where’s your mom?”
“Mommy died.” Livy stated in a rigid tone.
The man looked down at the girl, as she looked up at him, her hands still clutching his wallet.
“Give me my wallet.” He stated sternly, and Livy started to back up, getting ready to run again. The man snatched her arm, and held up his knife menacingly.
“I am not going to ask nicely again.” He growled, and Livy lowered her eyes to the ground, as she handed the wallet over. However, once her arm was released, she kicked the man in the stomach, grabbed his wallet again, and started to run.
“See ya, ya boob!” she exclaimed as she ran. However, the man was much faster, and he swiftly tackled Livy.
“I don’t think so.” He smiled as he took his wallet back. He then stood, leaving Livy on the ground.
“Now, if you’ll excuse me, I should be going.”
“Hold up there pretty boy. I don’t think you realize where you are.” A man stated as he and some other men stepped out of the shadows.
“Oh no. Dragon territory.” Livy whispered.
“The little chick is correct. And in Dragon Territory, you either pay up or have a few bones broken.” The leader laughed.
“Not gonna happen.” The man who was with Livy smirked, as he pulled out his gun and started shooting at the men.
He was skilled, mowing down the men quickly, however, the leader was able to pull a gun out and hit him in the shoulder.
Livy watched as the man who chased her fell, and the leader holding the gun was pointing his gun at the now injured man, ready to kill.
“No!” Livy exclaimed as she grabbed the gun from the hands of man who was chasing her. She shot at the gangster, and he fell to the ground.
“Sir? Sir, are you okay?” Livy questioned as she turned her attention back to the man who was chasing her, and poked at his face.
If the man died because of her trying to mug him, she wouldn’t be able to forgive herself. She never wanted to be the cause of someone’s death.
She noticed the bullet wound, and used her fingers to dig it out, the man wincing in pain as she did so. She then tore a piece of fabric from her red cape, and wrapped it tightly around his wound.
The man was conscious the entire time, watching with intrigued eyes as Livy worked.
“ hey, little girl?” he questioned.
“yes?” the man sprayed some gas in her face, making her dizzy,
“Thank you.” He grinned, and Livy fell to the ground, unconscious.
Indira Xavier Rispoli!
A request/present for Laces who created a cute and admirable character, Indira.
I drew her in a Red Hood gear since the Red Hood is Boyfriend. (Sorry I can’t draw curly hair yet).
But here you go, Honey :D
Thanks Canti~
THANK YOU!!!!
