Innocent Guilt

Chapter 1

*Note to reader 

-This is taken from the rough draft. The very, very rough draft. This typed version will be revised from the rough draft, but it is still far from being finished. Get used to it.  

-The title may or may not be permanent. I haven't decided.

-This story is from two people's point of views- Samantha and Ryan. (Concerning the latter, he may get a name change, but not during the story. If I change his name, it will be throughout the entire story so you may never know him as 'Ryan'.) 

-Another thing, this story was originally meant to be an action – adventure type of thing, but I think I am going to incorporate some romance or whatever to it. I don't know, just bear with me. 

Ok, here we go... 

▬▬Chapter Number 1▬▬

•••Samantha•••

Although it had never bothered me before, I felt uneasy as I walked down the dark ally. I had my knife on me, but I still couldn't shake this feeling of paranoia. Every leaf that blew in the chilly September breeze, every car I could hear on the distant highway, every footstep I made put me on edge. I had been feeling this way for a while. My time was almost up and I could feel it. 

Gathering myself together, I hurried down the alley, on my way to work. The bank I worked at wasn't too far away- just a few blocks away from my house, or my aunt's house rather. I lived with her and her two children and I had been for about a year and a half. I didn't really mind my aunt so much, but it was her children that got me weary. I didn't really like to talk about as to why I was living there. My aunt didn't even know all the details. In fact, nobody did. Well, almost nobody. 

Crossing the street, I made my way to the inside of the bank. I locked the door and went to a room in the back where there were three computer monitors which showed every nook and cranny of the bank. I turned all the monitors on and dropped my backpack, which I had been carrying, onto the floor. I just had to watch the bank and make sure nothing happened to it. The bank was family-owned and they hadn't updated to automatic sensors and all those other gadgets that big corporate banks had. I was fine with this because it gave me a small income. Once the monitors were all set up, I did my all my schoolwork. I never had time to do it any other time because my schedule was so different than what it should be. Instead of getting up in the morning, I got up before my night shift at work and once I was finished at the bank, I went to school afterward. After school I usually had a little bit of time, but I had to go to bed early just to start it all over again. 

After work, I headed home, still carefully watching for anything suspicious. I knew it was probably nothing, but I couldn't help but be overly cautious. I took the main road all the way home this time, just to be safe. At home, I found my aunt still in her pajamas, sitting at the kitchen table drinking a coffee. 

“Oh, hey Sam. How was work?” she inquired, without ever looking up from yesterday's paper. 

“It was the same as usual. Slow and boring.” I didn't tell her about that haunting paranoia. 

Although I liked my aunt well enough, I knew she just kept me at her house because I gave her half my paycheck as rent. I remember when I first came to her house she was very skeptical and didn't want me staying, but after I proposed I get a job in town and paid her, she became a little bit more comfortable. I didn't really like the idea of being a free-loader anyway. As long as she let me live there, I continued to pay her. 

At school, I didn't have many friends. Firstly, I only moved to the town a year and a half ago and secondly I just wasn't very social. It's not that I didn't like people, because I did, but I just didn't trust them. Another thing was I just didn't relate to people very well, especially people my age. Most kids I knew grew up with either both or one of their parents, but for the most part had a fairly comfortable life. They lived in the same town almost all their lives. They never had to move every time something seemed slightly peculiar. They never had to learn how to use a weapon just so they could defend their own lives. These kids were nothing like me, nor I like them.