Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
●●●
IF YOU HAD TOLD MIA LANGLEY THAT SHE'D BE TALKING A TEENAGER OUT OF SUICIDE AND SUBSEQUENTLY REVEALING SECRETS NO ONE ALIVE KNEW ABOUT HER AN HOUR AGO: SHE WOULD HAVE LAUGHED - AND THEN PUNCHED YOU.
"Do you ever smile?" Maria frowned at Mia, gently tracing her finger along the other girl's cheek. "I smile all the time, Maria." Mia said with an overexaggerated stretch of her lips. "I mean what's not to be happy about." The girl's voice was dripping in sarcasm as the wide smile that had previously decorated her lips moved back into a scowl. Maria's lips tugged down farther and Mia tried to ignore the twinge of guilt that crept up on her like her mother's hand when she reached for a cookie before dinner.
She let out a puff of air between her bleeding lips, she had been biting at the scabbing skin (a result of Brandy's ring during one of their sparring matches) and now she could taste the familiar tang of her blood. Mia closed her eyes, slowing her breathing down as memories started creeping towards her like a storm she knew she was in the eye of. Shaking her head as if that would rid her of the trauma, she focused on reloading her gun until Willie spoke up catching her attention.
"Hobo's on the move!" Willie's voice broke through the silence, causing the group to immediately disperse, running into their assigned positions.
Finally, something to keep my mind off this shit.
And that was her problem because it was always finally. Her past, her shit, was always just there - in the dark waiting for her. It was the monster under her bed, just waiting for a bad dream to peak its' claws out. It didn't even have to touch her. She didn't even have to see it. Because she knew it was there. She could feel its' beady eyes on her when she got a question wrong in class or when her opponent managed to land a hit. Just its very existence was enough for her to be terrified. So, when she could feel it. When she could feel its' eyes on the back of her head, she found distractions. And today, it seemed a distraction found her.
Marcus Lopez Arguello's wide eyes were trained on Mia, but it seemed he wasn't truly looking at her. Mia's mouth, that was ready to spew a half-assed apology for bumping into him, closes as she realizes who he is and a sigh escapes her as she realizes what he is.
"Fuck, you're high aren't you?"
The words fall past her lips before she can stop them and when a small confused giggle escapes the boy, she's almost glad she didn't bite her tongue. The girl sighs, not expecting the role of luring him to be placed on her shoulders. She wasn't very good with people, which is why she was on lookout duty, making sure cops weren't following Marcus. She looks at the boy, who looks both like he wants to scream and like he wants to sleep, and forcibly tugs her lips into what she hopes is a reassuring smile. "Come on, if we keep our heads low we should be able to get you out of here." She extends her hand and when he takes hold of it, he squeezes it and suddenly the cool San Fransisco air feels warm.
