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04 | that didn't work

0 4

that didn't work

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Cara was strolling casually down the street, moving her head from side to side, taking in all of her surroundings. She knew the city, but it looked different to her now that she was living alone.

The sun was brighter, the crowds of people much cheerier. But she was still focused on getting money and a job. Scouring the shops for hiring signs wasn't exactly working, though, and she soon became discouraged.

I need a different way to get money, she thought to herself. A way that'll get me back on my feet.

Cara leaned up against an empty wall, and watched people walk along the sidewalk, a mixture of hurriers and tourists, who were absorbing everything they saw. Within a few seconds, her gaze was focused on pockets, noticing the bulge in some of them, occupied by things like wallets, phones, or keys.

Mmm, wallets, she thought, with money.

"I can't do that, it's not right," she told herself, frustrated and shocked that she would even consider the fact. "Besides," she continued in another attempt to clear the thought out of her mind, "how the hell would I successfully pickpocket someone? That takes some serious skills, and ones that I don't have." She shook her head sharply.

But Cara couldn't describe or explain what happened to her next--or rather, what she was doing. Soon, her arms pushed her off the wall she'd taken to, and she began walking in the middle of the sidewalk, opposite of the general crowd. She analyzed the crowd, picking out her first victim.

This is wrong, she scolded herself all the while. You're going to get caught, and get in so much trouble.

But her feet kept moving, her head kept swiveling, and her fingers still twitched, almost feeling a stolen wallet in her hands already.

Then she saw it--well, her:

A woman with fiery red hair, and scrutinizing eyes. A leather jacket was shrugged on her shoulders, and she walked briskly with her head held high. She ignored all passersby, looking as if she was on a mission.

Bingo. I might be stupid for this, but considering that no shops are hiring at the moment, and I need to get money somehow, this has to work.

Cara set herself up so she was in line with the woman, and began to pick up the pace. Her fingers twitched some more, nervousness coursing through her veins. She thought she'd hear her subconscious scolding her again, but nothing happened, only the slight breeze that floated through the air had picked up. It was go time.

When the two girls neared each other at an alarming rate, Cara made sure to bump into her, while the red-head wasn't paying attention to the scene unfolding around her.

The collision happened, and the teen-turned-attempted-thief found her hand reaching into the woman's jacket, gently pressing against the inside, looking for her prize. She felt a soft wad of something poke out at her fingers, and she grasped it, pulling it out and separating herself from her victim.

"Sorry, are you good?" She asked, peering down at the teen.

"Huh? Yeah," Cara replied, her trophy still held in her hand. She dipped her head, and looked at it briefly before making a move to put it in her pocket.

"Wait," the red-head pointed accusingly at Cara, her sharp eyes narrowed. "Is that my money?"

The wad of bills was shoved hastily behind her back, in the lamest and least efficient way to hide it from her. "Ah...nope," she stated dumbly.

"You liar, it is!" She raised her voice, and reached for her possession, grabbing it successfully even when Cara tried to side-step out of her reach. "Who do you think you are?" She said angrily, fisting the money and putting it back safely in her jacket pocket.

"Nobody," Cara answered quickly, "I'm so sorry, I've been short on money for awhile, and I just wanted to--"

"You expect me to believe that bullshit?" The woman was causing some people to stare at the pair of them with confused looks on their faces. Cara tried desperately to hide her face, humiliation soon creeping in red waves across her cheeks. "I know what you do, what kind of people you come from. You're a thief, and pretty sorry excuse for one, at that."

"What?" Cara squeaked. "No, this is the only time I have, I just--you see, I've just moved out of--"

"Shove your sob stories up someone else's ass, missy," the woman snarled, "because I'm not one to fall for it."

Cara was sure of that now. She cowered under the failed victim's glare, guilt spreading over her. "Okay," she said softly, almost inaudibly, "I won't say anything."

Instead, she took a step to the side, and began to run, away from the red-haired woman, into the crowd. She pushed past everyone, ignoring the shouts of protest that followed her. Glancing back, she decided, wasn't a good idea that paid off. Because when she did, all she saw was the woman chasing her in hot pursuit, only a few steps behind.

"Shit," Cara cursed. "Shit, shit, shit."

The crowd was beginning to dwindle, and she took the chance to make a beeline for the next turn into an alleyway. Her lungs burned as she sprinted, having not run this fast for a long while.

But the detour proved to be Cara's downfall, as she neared the end of the alley, because a dead end reached her eyes. It was a brick wall, and even with cat senses, she couldn't scale it. She wasn't a rock climber, and the walls that were on either side proved to be of no use, either, just high walls with no footholds.

Breathing heavily, she ran to the wall, smacked it in frustration, and then turned around, awaiting the wrath of the woman.

When she arrived only a few seconds later, she immediately grabbed Cara's ear, dragging her back towards the main sidewalk. "Come on," she snapped, "you're not getting away with that crap that easily."

Cara groaned in pain. "Ow, lady," she complained, "fucking ow."

"Oh, suck it up. This isn't even the worst part of what you're going to get."

"You have friends?" She peered up at her pursuer.

The red-head grimaced. "You could say that."

Cara let out another groan. Well, that didn't work.