Screams and gunshots echoed throughout the town. This wasn't "scary" and this wasn't "abnormal". This was just a normal day in the life of an Edingsburg citizen. Nothing inhabited this city except for low-life criminals. Now, don't get me wrong, being the daughter of a high class gangster, I know the difference between low and high-class criminals. But, I've never been into the whole "rob and kill" thing. I've been a very happy person, despite my living conditions.
"Where is it!?" Bellowed a tall, well-built man with slick, black hair and a long, grey coat. My father looked up defiantly. "I have no idea what you're talking about."
"Don't be stupid," He commanded whilst pistol-whipping my father. "We helped you out when the cops came-Risked our lives to save your ass, now, don't you think we deserve a little something?"
This was a scene I saw often. First, the favour… Then, the debt… Next, the questioning… And eventually, the beating. I wasn't fearful for my father, for there was no need to be. I clasped the cold, hard pistol and pressed my thumb up against the trigger. A loud, bang resounded throughout the old building, resulting in a dead body and three, very confused cronies. I knew my job-Create a distraction long enough for my father to rob them-One of the most respected gangs-blind. One by one I shot them dead, not in cold blood though, for there was a reason I did this.
"Great job Melanie!" My father praised as he tussled my hair. That's why I did it-That's why I often assisted him in his criminal agenda, despite my true feelings. I did it because it made my father happy-Happy to be with me. I giggled and then, we ran off to our apartment, lest the police spot us. I nestled into the armchair as my father lit a cigarette. After about an hour of silence there was a knock at the door.
Grumbling, my father slowly pulled himself off of the couch and walked towards the door. "How may I help you officer?" Oh crap, a policeman! A deep voice answered, "We have evidence which states that that girl over there," He said, his eyes staring daggers at me, "Is responsible for the murder of all the members of the well-known gang "Bloody Knuckles". Did you have anything to do with it?" Damn these guys worked fast! But, no worries, there was no way my father would sell me out like that; after all, I was his daughter.
"No, I don't even really know this girl; she lives here because she's got nowhere else to go. If I knew she was a criminal…" After nodding in understanding, the officer walked over to me and bound my hands with cuffs. I couldn't believe it! My father had just betrayed me to save his own skin! That is what taught me the number one rule, "Put yourself ahead of anyone else and trust no one."
That is the rule in Edingsburg.
Prison was tough, but I was no wimp. No matter what happened I never broke down and eventually, I was let out for good behavior. Now I'd finally be able to do it-To get revenge-To kill my father. I strolled down the crime-infested town, ignoring all wrong-doings that I came across. I felt a cool, hard cylinder-like object poke the temple of my head. I shifted my eyes so I could see my predator. He was a man of average build with a budding mustache and whiskers resting upon his chin. His dirty-blonde hair looked disheveled and his much-too-wide eyes indicated that he was doped up on something.
Just a common thug trying to get his fill of drugs-This'd be easy to talk my way out of. "Calm down." I spoke carefully. I moved slowly until my front was facing the robber. "Hey-Where you goin'?! You ain't leavin' without paying your fee!"
"Fee?" I mimicked in a daze. "Yeah, fee. You pay and I don't blow a hole in your head!" Clever…. With one small word uttered my life was changed. No. I refused-I had too much pride to give in to a low-class thug. I must remember that drugies are usually quick to turn to violence, but at that moment I did not and if I did, then maybe my destiny would've changed.
My eyes wide; my brain in shock, I stared blankly at the bullet which floated in mid-air, a mere six centimeters from my face. Then, it dropped to the ground. He stared at me, baffled. In an act of fear and desperation he began madly shooting at me-Only to have every last projectile fall to the ground. I glanced up at him-My eyes meeting his and my glance holding his. I could see everything-Every thought that crossed his mind was an open book. As I searched deeper into the crevices of his mind, I noticed a slight, electric feeling. It felt eccentric and invigorating. He clutched his head and screamed, "Get out of my head!! GET OUT!!!" WE now had a crowd around us-all of them staring in bewitchment. Struggling to move, he clasped his pistol and lifted it to his cranium.
"The burning-The voices-I can't take it anymore man, I can't take it! Get out of my head!!" And with that his life ended. Blood splattered everywhere and now all eyes were on me. They knew it and I knew it and had known it too. Something was wrong with me.
Mothers hugged their children protectively and so called "bad-ass-gangsters" shrank every time I came near. I had become an object of power and fear in no more than a day. Father, are you ready? I will come for you, but not yet. For the time being I will lay low.
About a week later I sat in a coffee shop. The stirring-stick swam in circles inside of my cup and the beverage began to bubble and heat at my very gaze. My peaceful moment was cut short by the sound of crashing and car horns. Everyone gathered round the windows. I pushed myself through until I was outside and able to see what had disturbed my blissful moment.
There were five police cars acting as a sort of blockade-One of them crushed. About twelve policemen were present-Some standing, some crouched behind their vehicles, but all with guns. A strange flash of colour appeared in the air and gunfire went off. After the barrage of bullets seized, a woman seemingly fell from the sky-Only to land ever-so gracefully on the roof of one of the police cars. She was a rather small woman. She had sandy brown hair, deep, violet eyes, and looked no more than four feet and eleven inches in height and a little under eighty pounds in weight.
They shot at her again and she made no attempt to dodge. It was like watching hundreds of cars crash into a stone building-And she was the building. The bullets crumbled to the contact of her sun-kissed skin. She jumped from her perch and landed right in front of a cop, causing the ground beneath her feet to crack and triturate. The ground shook like a small earthquake; I was barely able to keep my balance. Terrified, he shot desperately at her. She caught every last missile and crushed them in her palm. A cute, fairy-like giggle escaped her lips. It was a sound that sent shivers up your spine. The rest of the men did all they could do-Shoot at her some more. Didn't they know that it was pointless? Flames crawled up from the now-broken concrete, burning everything and everyone within reach.
Torched corpses lay scattered alongside burnt vehicles-Even the seemingly indestructible girl had a few third degree burns. "That's much better." I commented leisurely as the flames descended. Without a second glance at my newly created masterpiece, I left the murder scene, only to be stopped by a grip on my arm that could have shattered my very bone. I turned round and stared viciously at the small female, causing her to quickly look away. "What the hell was that!?" She sounded amazed, pissed, and oddly adorable at the same time. I struggled to free myself from her iron grip, but it was no use. She was determined to elicit the truth.
"What was what?" I finally asked; anger evident in every word. "You know what I mean." She growled in response, her grip tightening-As if to squeeze the answer from my forearm. But, I was too proud. I had been through hell and back, there was no way that I'd even wince because of this pipsqueak! Noticing this, she ripped her hand from my arm. "Humph! We shouldn't be fighting, you and I. Us freaks should stick together."