Roxanne

Prologue

She stepped out of the old rickety house she had lived in all her life not even stopping to look back. If she did so she feared she would want to return. Want, I guess wasn’t the word to describe it. She was attached to the house, yes. The memories of her childhood lingered through the walls of the home. Some memories that she would like to forget and some memories that she wish she could remember.

Her life had been a jumble up just do it and who cares. My life had been full of what ifs and I don’t knows. She was the first thing in life that actually could make me laugh, cry, love her and hate her all at the same time. That actually scared me to know how much influence and power she had over me. I couldn’t say "no" to know to her. How do I describe her, she’s like a drug you use. No not use.(Nobody can use her) You take in. You have no choice to take it. If you don’t, you regret it. The more you use, the more you become an addict. Then after that. . . You’d do anything for it. Now just change "it" to "her" and that describes the feeling.

She gripped her backpacks strap tightly and took in a deep breath. He mentally checked over the items she had inside her bag. She nodded to herself as she counted. She was ready. Her brown hair hung loosely over her shoulders at a medium length. She had on a tight black tank top and a pair of tight jeans on. Her face was accented with a generous amount mascara and a very red lipstick. It was her usual look, most of the girls in the neighborhood dressed similar except they wore bright colors and wore nude tones of makeup. She liked to stand out, and that was okay.

I had the thought once that most of the girls in the neighborhood wanted to be like her. I don’t really think that now. Have you ever been to a school nowadays? Not much had changed. Well sure the curriculum is harder, and things are more advanced but the concept of ‘trend’ doesn’t change. People dress similar in school. It’s just a way of life, you take ideas from each other and create a look. Of course with guys it didn’t matter because our mothers shopped for us. Anyways I used to assume that they wanted to be like her because she was the talk of the town. It seemed that when I just started to be interested in girls all of these confusing thoughts came into place. I guess the case now is everybody dresses like eachother.

She kneeled down on her left knee once she turned the corner into another dark ally way and tightened the laces on her black converse sneakers. She could feel her feet sliding as she took each step. She took her time pulling each white string than finally tying a bow at the end. She switched to her left foot and began the process all over again. Pull, tighten, pull tighten. She didn’t know where she was going at them time. I knew that for sure. She never planned ahead, she lived in the present. So if you asked her; "What you doing this weekend." Her answer would be "I don’t know."

She heard a scuffling sound in the ally way which made her look over her shoulder. Her chin brushed her shoulder lightly as she did so, giving her a sudden chill. "Who do we have here?" Questioned a unfamiliar female voice. She remained silent as she tied the bow on her sneaker. She pulled herself off of the gravel and brushed of the dust on her knees. "What sort of valuables you got on you?" Another voice questioned. She remained quiet although I could imagine she was holding back a smart comment such as ‘none of your business.’

"No point running Sugar. Just drop you bag and empty out your pockets and we’ll let you be." Of course she didn’t believe that, who would? A group of ‘female toughies’ she observed. No older than herself so far she knew there where two. "Drop your stuff." The first voice beaconed again. She stood there motionless.

She wasn’t afraid. She knew what to do. This situation was common in the suburbs of Detroit. She had lived it and relived it many times.

"Are you deaf? Drop your damn stuff!" A new voice said, possibly female with a slight accent she couldn’t quite pick out. "I’m tiered of this! Somebody just grab her." Said the first voice. She could see there shadows advance. "You had your chance." Said another voice. Four people.

A hand grabbed her wrist in a tight grip. She didn’t move. "Now who is this?" The first voice said as she pulled her into the light. Now she could make out the first voices features. She had ratty blonde hair and a long cut from her eyebrow down to her chin. It was pretty fresh maybe it happened two or three days ago. She sort of looked like a rat that had been in a fight with a cat. Then again all people around here looked like some sort of sewer animal. She let out a hearty laugh at the thought.

The Rat grinned. "What’s to funny?" No answer. "Do I know you?" Again she didn’t answer. "Oh do you like it?" The Rat said with a grin and stroked her cut with her free hand. "I got this in a knife fight a few days ago. Want one?" The Rat stretched her hand out to a very bulk girl dressed in torn clothing. Probably her "henchwoman." She handed the Rat a knife.

The Rat slowly took the knife in her hand and stared at the blade. She could see psychotic thoughts passing through the Rat’s mind. The Rats eyes glistened as she stared down at the blade. She rubbed it with her thumb. It was engraved she couldn’t make out the words with the Rat’s fat thumb in the way.

The Rat moved the tip of the blade closer to her face. "Too bad that pretty face is going to waste." She said in false sadness. The blade came down quickly and she felt the icy metal press against the skin near her eyebrow. Her hand swung up and smacked the Rat’s wrist as she did so the knife cut the Rat’s other arm.

"Bitch!" The Rat screamed and clutched her arm tightly. She broke into a run. "Come back here!" A voice yelled. She felt a hard tug on her backpack and was pulled to the ground with a thrust that led her gasping for air. She punched the unknown figure in the chest once she caught her breath. Two more girls advanced. She pulled a knife out of her back pocket and pointed it in the girls direction tip first. She watched the knife glisten in the moonlight. They backed away slowly and broke into a run. Smart move, she thought and let out a long exhaile.

She was safe, she thought as she slipped the knife back into her pocket. She turned on her heel and felt a cool cut against her chest. She gasped and fell on her knees. Pain shot up her than through her but quickly disappeared. "Did you really think you could get away?" She fumbled at the cut with her fingers It wasn’t that deep she’d bleed for a bit though. It stung as she pulled herself up from the ground.

"Back for more?" The Rat questioned. She was, she kicked the knife out of the Rat’s hand and heard the clang of the metal hitting the ground. She grabbed the Rat by her shirt and flung her up against the brick wall. The Rat winced. She sent her fist flying to her stomach then let her drop to the ground. The Rat groaned in pain and bucked on her side. The Rat looked up at her at her and she could see the sheer terror in her eyes. She knew it was over.

With a hard kick she knocked the Rat unconscious. She turned around and began to walk away. But stopped and turned. Was she unconscious? She walked to the Rat’s side and rolled her over. Her eyes where closed, she had a long cut across her head, and her nose was bleeding. She looked. . . Lifeless.

She put her head against her chest and listened. She couldn’t hear anything. She listened harder. She couldn’t believe she had killed the Rat. She pulled her head off the Rat’s chest slowly. She examined her again. Was she playing? ‘She can’t be dead, I didn’t kick her that hard did I?’ He shook her shoulder lightly. The Rat didn’t move. She shook her again harder. "Get up!" She screamed. She shook her vigorously.

"Get up and fight me! Mug me I DARE YOU!" The Rat didn’t move. She kicked her side. "Shit" she mumbled and wiped her forehead with the back of her hand. "You really are dead aren’t you..."

She didn’t even know her real name. Yet she had killed her without hesitation. She looked around in her pocket but all she could find was a gum wrapper and a receipt for a sweater. "You had it coming Rat." She said plainly as she picked the Rat’s knife off of the ground and wiped the blade off with the inside of her shirt. She turned around and spat on the ground. "You had it coming."