Don't Call Me Angel

Angel 01

"I probably will do it again, so..." Lavender told Sergeant Miller.

The sergeant sighed patiently at her, but Lavender couldn't understand why Miller was so nice.

Because she had no filter, Lavender asked directly, "Why are you so fucking nice?"

Sergeant Miller ignored the question and continued filling out some forms. Lavender guessed it was time for her to go to the slammer—the big P word. That's where she'd end up anyway. She blew out a shaky breath at the possibilities of the unknown. She was a well-known troublemaker on this side of Los Angeles.

But what she did today would always be something she carried to the grave. Sergeant Miller beside her cleared her throat to gain Lavender's attention. Lavender yawned in her face; she was bored.

"Lavender, this is your FINAL warning. If you blow this, you'll be thrown into prison. A lot of cops are willing to lock you up and throw away the key, darling," Sergeant Miller said, then took a sip of her black coffee, the wrinkles below her eyes looking more prominent with each visit Lavender made to the station.

"Well, since it's my final warning, just let me out so I can enjoy my life before I'm convicted," Lavender said, grabbing the keys to her handcuffs from the desk.

"Not so fast, troublemaker," Sergeant Miller said, snatching the keys from Lavender's grasp.

Lavender groaned. "What now, Miller?"

"You'll be sent to a camp to overcome your troublesome ways this summer. It's either that or prison," Miller stated, looking straight into Lavender's pale blue eyes that most of the time held no emotion.

"Miller, just send me to fucking prison. I ain't going to no boot camp. Lavender takes orders from NO ONE!" she said, gritting her teeth.

"You have no choice. I'm signing off on it now. You'll be leaving for Fire and Ice in New York tomorrow. And you have to stay there for the whole summer," Sergeant Miller said, smiling as if it was something good.

"Can I leave now?" Lavender grumbled.

"Now you may leave with Officer Lee. He will give you your documents and plane ticket for New York. Your flight is at 5 AM. Good luck, kid," Miller said, rubbing her temples.

Lavender scoffed, then grabbed the keys and took her wrists out of the uncomfortable handcuffs.

Officer Lee drove Lavender straight to her dilapidated home. At least she had a roof over her head and food to eat... sometimes.

"Here," Officer Lee said, handing her a small bag with papers and other items. She rolled her eyes and showed him the middle finger. He chuckled; Brad had always been her chauffeur.

Lavender walked inside her home and slammed the door shut. She fished her phone out of her pocket to check the time. It was 1 AM. That meant she had four hours until it was time to go to the airport. She hated Miller; the sergeant was always looking out for her, but all Lavender wanted was to go there, and Miller wouldn't let her.

She sighed and sat on her couch that reeked of stale piss. As she sat down, she pondered over the last twenty-four hours and all the mistakes that had led to this moment.

Lavender had no friends, no family, no money—nothing.

But she decided to take New York by storm. After all, she was Lavender White, notorious badass.

She grabbed the duffle bag from under her old bed, which had springs sticking out, and emptied it. Loose change and coke fell to the floor with a loud thud. The last thing in her bag was her .45, her rusty protector that she scoured like a pot every morning.

Lavender emptied her drawers and threw her clothes and shoes into the duffle bag, along with essentials like her phone and toothbrush.

Knowing they wouldn't let her in with drugs and guns, she did what she always did in scenarios like this. She stuffed the gun in her jet-black hair, teased and brushed into a puffy hairstyle, with her pretty white fisherman's hat covering it. Then she put a couple of bags of coke and her ammunition inside her bra, a knife in her boots, and weed in her underwear.

She checked her phone; it was nearly 3 AM. She had something to do and someone to see before she left. Exiting her home, she locked the door even though no one would go inside. After all, they didn't want to die.

Lavender hopped on her motorcycle, strapped the duffle onto the back, and zoomed off in the direction of Compton.

She rode up the driveway of a familiar house. Mama Roz lived inside, and she knew everything, so Lavender left $200 with her to visit someone while she was away.

"Mama Roz?" Lavender called out.

"Child, what do you want now?" the old feeble woman came out, dressed in a long nightgown. Lavender shoved the money into her hand.

"I'm leaving. Just take care of her while I'm away."

Without waiting for a response, Lavender sped out of the driveway in the direction of LAX.

By the time she got there, it was 4:15 AM. She sent a message to Klaus to pick up her bike and carry it to the storehouse.

Messages

Me to Klaus: Come get my bike, it's at LAX.

Lavender walked up to the desk and checked on her flight. It was boarding time, and an attendant called over a guy to take her bag and led her to the tunnel she had to go through to enter the plane.

"Here you go, ma'am," the attendant said, handing Lavender a magazine to read for the duration of the flight.

Lavender hated reading, writing, and learning in general, but she was oddly good at it. She closed the magazine and plugged in her earphones, listening to some rock music.

Closing her eyes, she studied the back of her eyelids, then drifted into a dreamless sleep.

When Lavender awoke, the plane was starting its descent into New York. She glanced out the window at the sprawling city below, its lights twinkling like stars against the dark canvas of the night. For a moment, she allowed herself to feel a flicker of excitement beneath the layers of cynicism and defiance that had built up over the years. This was a new city, a new place where nobody knew her, where she could reinvent herself—or at least try.

As the plane landed and taxied to the gate, Lavender gathered her belongings and mentally prepared herself for what lay ahead. The camp, Fire and Ice, was supposed to help troubled teens like her, but she had no intention of playing along with their rules. Still, a part of her couldn't help but wonder if this was her last chance to turn things around.

. . .

End of Chapter 1.

An- Hey guys! I hoped you enjoyed the first chapter, I am updating everyday. Don't forget to like and comment.

Also, where are you guys from? I am from Jamaica 🇯🇲