Cuts and Bruises

6.) Poisoned Wine

It's the afternoon. I've planned out an outfit for when I go to the bar later to kill Naomi. It's a dark red dress, with a slit at one of the sides. I'm gonna wear black shorts underneath, obviously though. Red heels.

I have a mental note in my mind about how Naomi will look.

Black hair in loose bunches, tied with green ribbons..

...Uh..that's it. It's gonna be a pretty hard job to find her. Brooklyn really couldn't have told me anything else, nah?
Whatever, doesn't matter now.

I grab a brush and throughly brush through my slightly frizzy, yet still fluffy hair. It's not exactly straight, but it's fine.

...I don't own rat poison, so..I need to find some.
In the garden, there's a shed and we used to own some, so maybe it's still there. I know we have gloves so I won't get my fingerprints on anything. I have it planned out in my head, but when I plan something the complete opposite happens, so I shouldn't bother with it.

I glance at a clock.

19:45.

I pick up my black handbag, that I have never used in my entire life. I rush out my house, my phone, some money and a pocket knife inside the bag. I slam my door behind me. I haven't been outside in a while, huh?

I start to speed walk down the street and eventually get to where I need to be.

The random shop that was shoved in a corner that sells gardening and stuff to kill insects and rodents..

..How fabulous.

I walk in.
The woman at the counter looks about 18.

"Hey, you got rat poison I could buy?"
I need this interaction to end as soon as possible.

She quietly nods.
She hands me it.

"£20."

I thank her, give her the money, shove it into my bag and sprint to my final destination.

The Mockingbird Bar.
I get my phone.

20:15.

I made it.

I wait a couple minutes, and see a woman with black hair, loosely tied with green ribbons, in a black dress; and a green handbag over her shoulder.

I immediately get a gut feeling to run, which basically tells me within itself to approach her.

"Hey, excuse me?"
I walk up to her, grabbing every last bit of courage to just have a social interaction.

"Hm, yes?" She looks down at me.
Not in a nice way.
She's glaring at me and almost towering over me.

"..Er..Wanna get to know each other a little bit?"
I'm struggling to get the words out of my mouth.

"Heh, Of course."
She just..smiles, grabs my hand and starts walking to a corner with a booth.

While we're going over, she gets me some red wine too.

I don't really want this lady holding my hand but..sure. She doesn't even know my name, why would she just not even hesitate to talk to me?