Chapter 3

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I shoot of the bus like a bullet, the bullet that killed that man - but saved my life. Questions swim around my head, demanding to be answered with answers I don't have. There's no point denying it, I need to have therapy. This is all a dream.

Luckily the bus was only a stop away from my house and it takes me only five minutes to run there; this fear generated pace is absolutely mind blowing! I'm glad the adrenalin has kicked in, otherwise I'd be spent.

Fumbling wildly in panic, I grab my keys and and slam open the cherry red door; I fly in and slam it shut again - no more attempted kidnappings for me!

"Dad!" I scream, twisting my russet hair out of my sweaty red face. I slump down and begin to cry, salty tears sliding down my puffed out cheeks, I cover my face not wanting to show weakness to my dad as I hear him charge down the stairs only to stop in front of my sobbing body.

"Shush, baby girl. What's all these tears about?" He coos, patting my jean coveted knee. I look up at him and pull my hands away from my face to start clawing at the laminate floor.

"Dad! I was nearly kidnapped!" I wail, I think I've really lost it this time, seriously. Who has a nervous breakdown like this?!

"I know why...." He mummers, searching my eyes in despair and anger.

"Why?" I ask

"Because.." He begins, rubbing his ageing temples "I am the crime lord."

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