𝗽𝗵𝗮𝗻𝘁𝗼𝗺 𝗼𝗽𝗲𝗿𝗮 ➪ 𝗮𝗻𝘁𝗵𝗼𝗻𝘆 𝗹𝗼𝗰𝗸𝘄𝗼𝗼𝗱

𝗼𝗻𝗲. 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘀𝘁𝗮𝗿𝘁 𝗼𝗳 𝗮 𝗹𝗶𝗳𝗲

* two months before Lucy Carlyle joined Lockwood & co.*

IT STARTED WITH A DEATH.

perhaps the death of someone turns into a reborn of others.
after all it was all it took.
Ciani Campbell, dead at 17 by a type 2 visitor.
the Berkshire's had no comments in the situation, they simply thanked the Campbell girl for saving their rebellious  good-for-nothing daughter; Agnes Berkshire.

after being blamed for the death of her best friend Agnes was hit by the realization that, she did not matter.
no matter the hours she studied, trained or worked to become the best, that she did everything and anything to reach the top of her family's expectation; whatever she did was never enough.
it was not her fault. the dyed hair girl tried to convince herself as she laid in the floor of her bedroom. her parents arguing downstairs about the incident.

it was better to just leave, ghost.
there was no one in this shithole of town worth staying for anyways... considering the one person who was worth it was now deceased.

within seconds she added any main piece of clothing she may use in the future in a red jansport bag, her rapier close to hand and few basic necessities, she looked over her balcony- the worst she could get were a few broken bones. the teenager shrugged, dumping her bag on the floor and jumping loudly right next to it.
In an hour she was entering a train to London, looking over agencies she could join.

rejected.
rejected.
rejected once more.
rejected again.
kicked out.
rejected.

god this is a bad idea.

Agnes lit a cigarette, looking past the agency numbers which weren't risked out. she felt the pain of desperation coming through, it hammered in her chest as she left quiet breaths in the London streets; smoke leaving her mouth with each breath she took.
down at the bottom of the paper stood her hope.
Lockwood & Co. she read out the information before walking to it- after all it wasn't that far.
the teenage girl turned a right, 35 Portland Row was now in her sight.
she paused...if this was really the agency then it was the smallest building she had ever been in.

four knocks on the door, she took a step back- after seconds that felt like hours the door opened.
"are you a candidate?" the boy who answered had black framed glasses, curly hair and wore a flannel. he wore a frown on his face and Agnes took note of that.
"are you Mr.Lockwood?" Agnes asked but it couldn't have been, he looked her age which was certainly weird.

"no but he's inside." the two teenagers stopped, looking at each other. the boy opened a larger gap on the white door.
"well come on in then!" he exclaimed "it's cold outside!"

"name?" the glasses boy asked, before leading her to whatever room the interview would be held in.
"Agnes..." her full name was famously known, being part of one of the richest families in Britain had its ups and downs.