Famous Last Words

Chapter One

“Can I please use the computer now?”

I stood next to my sibling and raised an eyebrow, tapping my foot impatiently.

“Five more minutes!” Sadie snapped back without looking up.

“That’s what you said ten minutes ago. Move,” I said as nicely as I could.

I don’t even know why I still cared. I went through this every day with the numerous kids I lived with. Being the oldest makes it even more difficult, but there’s something about being mean to anyone that leaves me feeling terribly guilty.

“Fine,” she grumbled and stomped off to her room.

I sat down in the computer chair and searched for the new school I’d be going to. Nothing I wasn’t used to. It happens almost every year. Luckily, this was my senior year.

“North Beach….” I mumbled to myself, clicking the link.

“The best public high school in the city,” I snorted to myself. I better not be going to school with a bunch of rich kids. That would be suicide.

I heard keys jingle in the door lock, and I got up. Mary, my foster mom, walked in with her arms overflowing. I grabbed a few of the grocery bags and followed her into the kitchen, stepping over toys.

“It would be nice if the younger ones would pick up after themselves,” Mary spoke in frustration.

“Wouldn’t it,” I agreed. I have bruises all over my body from tripping every day. It doesn’t help that I’m a total klutz. “I looked up my new school,” I tried making conversation. I’ve only lived here for about a month. It was still summer vacation, but school started next week.

“That’s nice,” she started putting the groceries away. “What do you think?” She asked.

I shrugged. “I have a horrible feeling I’m going to be going to school with a bunch of preppy rich kids,” I said.

“If you want I can take you shopping. I have enough money,” she offered.

“Are you sure you can afford clothes for me, plus all the other kids?” I wasn’t used to my foster homes having sufficient money. The other homes I lived in weren’t too well off.

“I have more money than you think, honey,” Mary smiled at me. “Besides, It would be great bonding!”

“I’d like that,” I replied honestly. I’m really starting to like her. She was different.

“Let me tell Mark we’re leaving,” she told me before climbing up the stairs. Mark was her husband…so my foster dad? I usually just call my foster parents by their first names.

I stepped into the living room and found my worn out converse by the door. I didn’t mind these being so old; they were incredibly comfortable.

Mary came back down the stairs and grabbed her keys. I followed her out of the door and got in the car.

“Will you get my cell phone out of my purse and tell me if I have any messages?” Mary asked.

It’s illegal to use your phone while driving in California, so I nodded and pulled her purse into my lap, taking out her cell phone. Wait, did I just see a gun? Why would she have a gun…in her purse? Wasn’t it illegal to carry concealed weapons, unless you had a permit?

“Uhhh….Mary?” I spoke nervously.

“Yes dear?”

“Why do you have a gun in your purse?” I asked.

“….self defense?” She asked back.

She was lying. Well, I’m not going to pry….I’ll figure it out eventually. I nodded and proceeded to check her phone.

“No new messages,” I said.

“Ok, thanks.”

Mary pulled into the mall’s parking lot, and we got out of the car. I followed her through the food court, and we were about to walk into Macy’s when she stopped walking abruptly. I shot her a confused look and she shook her head and put a finger to her lips. I was about to ask why when I heard a gun shot, followed buy a sharp pain in my arm.

“Skye! Honey!” Mary shouted.

I fell to the ground and hissed in pain, and looked at Mary. But I couldn’t find her! A woman nearby gasped and walked up to me.

“Are you ok?” She asked.

I just got shot, and she asks me if I’m okay.

“No! Call 911...or something.” I held my hand to my wound to try and stop the blood. She nodded and dialed the number, before informing the dispatcher of the situation.

I continued looking around for Mary and I spotted her pointing her gun at a man laying on the ground, thanks to her foot which was holding him there.

“Give me your gun,” she demanded, in a rather calm tone. What was she, a FBI agent? Gosh.

My view was blocked by a guy about my age bending down in front of me. He took off his white tee-shirt and motioned to my wound. I nodded and removed my hand- now covered in blood- and he balled his shirt up and pressed it to my arm. Luckily he was wearing a tank top under that shirt….even though he was pretty well built…why am I thinking about his muscles at a time like this?

“Am I hurting it?” He asked in a soft voice.

“Not any more than it hurts already,” I answered.

“An ambulance should be here shortly,” the lady from before informed me, before walking away again. I guess she had other things to do…

“Um….I’m Damien. What’s your name?” He asked, trying to distract me from the pain.

“I’m Skye.”

“Pretty name,” he replied.

“Thanks.”

Then my world started to spin. I winced, and Damien’s voice echoed in my head.

“Skye! No, open your eyes!” he pleaded. “The paramedics are here!”

I heard footsteps around me and someone murmur something about me losing too much blood before everything went silent and completely dark.

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Hey everyone! A new story idea I couldn't get out of my head. It's about time I start another story, anyway.

It's going to be an Action Teen Fiction. Originally, I had it in the Romance Category, but I changed it.

Thank you SO much for reading, voting, and commenting. AND fanning. I really do appreciate every little thing.