I wondered through the unexpected streets of London, I had no destination set and aimless took each street at a time. I was slightly in a sleepy state, aware but less than normal. I tightened the ragged scarf round my shoulders and quickened my pace with my head slightly bowed. I stared down onlookers and turn away from street hawkers. Eventually after the trip through piles of stalls and stale food settled in trash cans I turned into an alley way. A few individual bandit looking men automatically search me for a purse and ignore me when they notice I’m not carrying a bag. As I turned the corner the hairs on the back of my neck stands up on its end and I got that sudden feeling of being watched. I stop suddenly and with my supernatural cat senses I located the culprit. Unfortunately for me it was a gang of thugs, looking for some trouble. I turned round and hissed, only to receive confused looks. The group of five parts to let way for their leader I presume. Than they walk towards me, I finger the knife tucked within my hock of my trousers and locate their weapons. One held a grey, wooden bat while the remaining members had a slight, stick like bugle near his hip. A knife. I proceed forward directly aiming for the leader who looks slightly worried and I stop a metre in front of him. I crock my head. “Yes,” I demand. The leader who for a second reconsiders his future action stands and cracks his knuckles. “Did I say anything,” he growls. A few seconds pass as I test his patients. “Than don’t look at me,” I bark and turn on my heels in which I knowingly do on purpose to trigger his anger. The air quivers slightly as the world around me slows down. I stop walking and turn, one of his fellow gang members flexes his bat and storms towards me. I stand patiently and wait for the right time. He arches his back and brings the bat down aiming for my head. I leap to the side, grab hold of the bat with one hand and grab his wrist with the other. Than within seconds I twist round and pull his arms over my back and straight down in front of me as his body slams into the pavement, I hear a crack and a yell. But by than I have discarded him and pull out my knife, holding my index finger slightly above my other four fingers to insure a fast and efficient attack. Two of the remaining four come at me each holding a knife each, the left one had a miniature boning which curves slightly but it overall straight on the right guy had a clip point, a line curve and a concentrate point, can kill me within seconds if I got hit, it will damage my internal organs instantly, even without aim. Keeping in mind that I should focus on the right opponent rather than the left I lunge. I head for the right guy, side jump his knife and cutting a clean cut at the back of the neck, however I didn’t penetrate deep enough. He turns round and slicks blood every where, some lands on my check. I wipe it, leaving a dark, red smug across my cheek. The left guy heads towards me as the right guy hesitates. I take out the left guy easily, quickly tipping him up and shoving my knee into his stomach, he doubles over and I slam down on his back with my elbow. Than I use the man’s back as support and flips over him and kicking my feet into the right man’s face as my foot connects with his chin as he flips over, unconscious. Landing in a crouch and one hand touching the floor I stand up and trace the knife edge with my finger. I step forward growl slightly and the remaining leader and his foe stumble over each other and run, deeper into the alley way, escaping my stare of death. Than everything speeds back up into normal pace, as I turn slightly looking over my solder and walk back to the streets as the late evening rain starts to fall.
The stanch of garbage filled my super sensitive nostrils as I settled down between two garbage bins, before tearing off the lid of one of them and sitting it down between the rims of both bins. Creating a part time shelter for the night, another night alone on the streets of London. Than suddenly a loud ‘dong’ like noise erupted from somewhere behind me. I jump to my feet and realise a few seconds later what it was, I sit back down and close my eyes, smiling to myself, at my stupidity. “Stupid Big Ben,” I whisper and go back to sleep.
As the sun begins to rise I felt a little better after that rush of adrenaline last night, I watch a nearby rat nibble on something but then scuttles away as a coke can rolls across the pavement. The sound of everyday life hits me, car horns, rustling traffic, crowed pavements, business men shouting down their phones. I rest my head against the bin and close my eyes, small pictures flash across my eye lids, the horrors I witness the pain I have endured than I open my eyes. I crawl out between the bins and tighten my stolen black coat round me as I hook my dirty scarf round my neck. I adjust my beanie black hat on my hair which has surrender to split ends. Quickly gathering my remaining possession, I slip my knife back into the hook on my trousers and fold my jumper over it; I hastily stand up and blend in with the crowd. Than my hunger hits me and I eye the food stalls and slip an orange into my pocket. Than someone grabs my hand and as the orange falls into the hole of my pocket…
Chapter 2-Market trouble
“What do you think you’re doing young lady,” barks a Market seller who tightens his grip on my arm, I feel the poorly cut nails dig into my skin. I remain mute, giving him no facial expression to work on. “Sorry but I don’t quite understand,” I growl, twisting my arm, loosening his grip. “I said what you think your doing with me oranges,” he barks. I let him plunge his hand into my pocket but only removes his hand, confused. I look directly at him than I turn round stone race and continue walking. “Oie, I’m talking to you, someone get that girl, thief,” he yells. I quicken my pace dodging through the crowds trying to avoid any attention which was building up on my shoulders quickly. As I reach the corner two police men turn towards me and smile. But than their eyes look up to the market seller who was practically shouting “thief, thief” at the top of his lungs. “Morning, geez some people are so selfish, I hope that thief is caught.” I smile and try walk round them as the Market seller pushes through the crowds and points at me. “Her,” he yells and the policemen scrabble for me, tripping over each other... I dodge both neatly lucky enough to escape besides the tiredness that dwells on me. I stubble on my scarf as it catches round my leg and I merely save myself from a fall. But the scarf tightens round my leg as one of the policemen catch hold of it, tripping me up. I land painfully with scarped hands and a bleeding forehead and struggle to pull the scarf off, the second policeman grabs me round the waist and hoisters me up again a brick wall and holds me against it. The other policeman lets go of my scarf and unclips his hand cuffs from his belt and latches them round my wrists. I clench my knuckles, suddenly to weak to move and my body goes numb. I don’t know what’s going on with me, my body is being awkward at the wrong time. I helplessly watch as they pat me down for weapons, finding my knife and stolen orange. I felt as if I was watching someone else’s worst day, when in fact its mine. They drag me to the car and shove me in the back, locking the door from the outside. I force myself to sit up and I lean my shoulder against the door panicking. I’m so scared, I breathe heavily as I feel like I’m jumping between slow and fast time mode. Everything slows like it would do when I am getting ready to fight but than speeds back into normal time. My nightmares hit me but I keep focus, the bloody scene and cry of pain echoes in my head. I hear someone yelling and I realise its me, what’s happening!
Than suddenly my chest feels as if it has been smashed up. I scream in pain, clutching my stomach in pain. The police look at me, really worried as one of them picks up the radio and starts to speak. I can’t hear what’s he saying as the pain leaves my brain unfocussed. As another wave of pain hits me I yell even louder and grab at the seat leather, clawing at the once smooth seat. I start barging my shoulder against the door, trying to break it open, oblivious to my actions. The pain claws up to my body, slowly feeling as if my fresh my rotting within. Than for a second I feel as if the pain has gone, and it has, just before I pass out.
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