Sweaters and Angels

Chapter 28 | I'm Batman?

Indigo's POV:

I am now officially named the baddest bitch on the block. That's it. That's final. No one can take this achievement away from me. Not Satan, not Zeus, not our lord and savior Danny Devito. NO ONE.

Sweetie. I don't know how to break this to you, but-

No. Shut up me, you don't know anything except how to be stupid.

Says the nimrod who just jumped out of a two story window.

YOU TOLD ME TO DO IT!

I DIDNT THINK YOU WOULD LISTEN!

Whatever. It's too late now, I'm already stuck in the bushes. I stood up from the brush, albeit a bit wobbly, kind of like a newborn fawn taking its first few steps in a dew covered forest-

Oh shut up already and go find your ragtag group of idiot friends.

Fine. But not because you told me to do it.

After brushing a few stowaway leaves and sticks from my sweater, stuck to the soft material after my graceful plummet, I reached into my pocket to grab the keys to my jeep... only to realize they weren't there. Oh and also I didn't have a pocket to reach into in the first place. Whoever designs women's clothes, shame on you. The pockets are absolutely atrocious, if there are any in the first place.

Your stupidity never ceases to amaze me.

I know, I am quite shocking, am I not?

Anyway, without any keys I bounded up to my front door with the intent to grab them from the inside and be on my way. But NO. THE DOOR HAD TO BE FREAKING LOCKED.

I can't even wrap my head around how those losers even managed to lock the door in the first place. They didn't have a key! Or did they?

Magic.

Fuck off and suck my left toe.

Ugh. Right about now I wish I was like Batman or something. Like, with the press of a button on a super cool looking remote, an underground garage door would open causally, as if it were an extension to the house. LED light would be lining the metal plated walls and the colors would reflect off of the shiny material giving off a sort of disco vibe, ya know? And best of all would be the not at all suspicious looking car sitting right smack dab in the center. Matte black, low to the ground, and overall just a NOICE looking car that would be my baby. Ahhhhh what a dream it would be to be Batman.

Batman didn't have parents.

And that's my problem how?

Sadly, and this was a very difficult reality to grasp my one brain cell around, I am not batman. And so, I shook off the negativity clouding my mind and set out to find the Fallen Angels.

I made it about a step and a half before I realized I had absolutely no clue where I was heading.

FUCK. WHY DOES THIS EARTH HATE ME. All I want to do is find those fucking idiots and help them
take down my bitch of a sister. Because it's MY problem to deal with. Not theirs. Not Barack Obama's. MINE.