• Lucky Me, I See Ghosts •

Run-Away Killer

The sun was bright in this eyes as he woke up in her car, it was
moving,"You're up sleepy-head." His head pulsated and hurt so bad he could barely talk.

"You have a pretty bad hangover, huh?"

He struggled to think properly. He had an almost empty bottle in his hand. He drank it quickly,"Chill out kid, you should drink water."

He was very confused about why she was being so nice. She had a bottle of water in the cup holder, he took it and chugged it,"If you keep doing that, you're going to throw up again."

He sat up felling nauseous, he couldn't see that well,"What?" His voice sounded deep and tired.

"last night they found the body of the housekeeper, I fucked up. And they said your name." She laughed,"They think you killed him."

"What? Why do they think that?"

"Its the police, there fucked up more than me." Lucky felt his hair, than he looked at it in the mirror.

It was brown, she died his hair when they were drunk. He didn't look that different besides his hair colour and a slight beard. The car was fast as she keep driving, pasting many houses, trains, and kids playing at parks.

They drove slower, down a road covered by tress. She pulled up to an old blue house, that looked like the paint was chipping off. The windows were boarded up and also covered with, like a blanket, who ever was in it didn't want to be seen.

Willow parked,"If you stay with me, you won't get killed."

They both got out of the car,"Don't talk to or look at anyone, or anything."

She took off her heavy coat revealing her top and fish nets. She wanted him to put her coat on, so he did. She walked up to the door and knocked four times, the door open a bit to see who it was, than opened to let them in.

A group of people sat in a dim house, they were many prostitutes they wore lingerie there hair was all beach blonde similar to Willows. There were about four men, one was on the bed with three prostitutes touching him as he smoked and hit them.

The other one had dark skin, he sat in the center of the room, with a hookah. He had girls on the floor and smoke everywhere.

The other guys were strong, on steroids probably, they were ment to get rid off any unwanted guest.

The man in the center of the room looked at them,"Kira, baby, are you done with your tantrum?" His eye went to Lucky,"Who is that?"

"Not important. I need money."

The man stood up,"I heard, Trisha died. Did you kill her?"

"Fuck no! Michael did."

"Was it Michael that stole my car, was it Michael that took my money, was it Michael that set the first place on fire?"

He walked up to her,"Was it?"

Willow looked down,"No." She said in a quiet voice. He raised his hand and slapped her in the face, her head bent down, he grabbed her hair, her hands went to his arms.

The mans face got close to hers,"Yeah, it was you, crazy bitch. And now your back, asking for money again. What did you waste it on last time? Huh? Did you waste it on his man whore to fuck you? I wouldn't fuck you even if you did paid me. I suggest you get out before you burn this place down."

He slammed her head in the boarded up window he walked back to his seat.

Lucky got down to help Willow up, her head was bleeding. Her hand held tight on his cuts. They quickly got out and into the car.