Chasing a Ghost

Chapter Thirteen

Author's Note: Hey guys! Please let me know how you feel about my story so far! I kind of fell off uploading because I don't really know if people like it or not. Feel free to share criticisms too! Thank you :) 

You looked at yourself in the mirror, admiring your handiwork.

You wore a nice, casual outfit that you hadn't had the chance to pull out of your closet for almost a year now. It was an outfit that you loved to wear on days out before joining Task Force 141, where "days out" were hardly a thing anymore.

You turned, looking at yourself from every angle. Not to toot your own horn, but you knew these clothes looked great on you. It was an outfit made up of casual wear that somehow helped you look sexy. Tight jeans accentuated the curves of your lower half, with a somewhat-revealing tank top and a cutoff leather jacket to go with it. You barely got to express your femininity anymore, and you were excited to have the chance again.

You made faces at yourself, admiring your makeup and tossing your hair around this way and that. You were beginning to feel excited now, confidence seeping into you, certain that this was going to be a great night. The excitability you felt had momentarily pushed all of your worries aside. You had your head in the clouds.

Hell, if you really did have a great time out tonight, it would be worth getting in trouble for. What the hell would Simon do anyway?

Spank me?

You laughed at yourself in the mirror, looking into the pupils of your eyes and feeling yet another confidence boost at the sight of your own beautiful, cheerful smile. You felt warm and giddy, like nothing could stop you from enjoying your night out.

You grabbed your bag and got ready to leave. The cold door knob twisted beneath your palm, a cold reminder that things could turn awry at any moment now. You peeked out into the orange glow of the streetlights that surrounded the encampment, eyes searching about for traces of someone that might catch you. With your dorm facing multiple others before you, you needed to get out of there fast.

You peeked your head out the door, checking around the various lights and shadows. You cursed at yourself for a moment, feeling anger at the fact that you felt the need to be secretive at all.

I should be able to go have fun on the weekend if I want to.

And with that thought you confidently stepped out the door, pushing those worries and fears deep down within yourself, feeling entitled to a night of fun after all that you'd suffered while working for Task Force 141.

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Your heart pounded as you approached the bar scene. You pulled your phone from your pocket, the confidence you'd felt before wavering a bit. You were reminded of your days as a teenager, crawling out of your bedroom window into the darkness to be picked up by some guy 5 years older than you to go smoke pot and drink alcohol. Back in those days you would spend every waking second diligently checking your phone over and over, waiting for a text to come in from your parents: Where the fuck are you?

You let out yet another frustrated puff into the chilly night air as you reminded yourself that you were an adult fully capable of taking care of yourself. You work hard, you do what you're told, and you're a valuable asset to the team. These men can trust you with explosives and assault rifles but they don't want you going to a bar with a friend on Friday? Piss off.

Groups of people loitered about at the front of the bar. You decided to call Drake instead of sending him a text. You began searching for the unsaved number that had texted you a few hours before when you heard his voice call out to you from nearby.