The Firestone Tournaments [ HIATUS ]

The Firestone Tournaments: Chapter 1

                                                                    Chapter 1

          Fifteen. Fifteen seconds is the estimated frame of time that I have been given to get my ass out of that damned cop-magnet of a jewlery store and find a place to duck it out until the heat has been suffocated. So the moment that I hear the sirens of the police cars coming my way, I grab my beat-up brown messenger bag, put up the hood of my gray hoodie and dash out the door. I know that my foster mother will never let this slide, and the others will probably get hell for assisting with my cover but that thought only boosts my determination on not getting caught. You can only get jumped so many times before you catch on to the rhythm. You fuck up, you get beat up. It's pretty simple, yet I always manage to overlook the consequence. Rolling my eyes as I tighten the strap of my bag around my shoulder, I pick up my pace as the blaring tocsins reel closer.

I can hear my name on the streets now, "Anais Parker is at it again. When will she ever learn" I'm sure everybody knows by now that this isn't the first time that I've stolen and I'm sure that I'm no stranger to the police force in Woodward Heights county. But it's kind of insulting when nearly everyone in town is wagging their fingers disapprovingly and throwing their morals in my face every time I head out. No, I'm not a kleptomanic and this isn't just a habit. It's a way of life and something most of us here in the Bend have to pick up on in order to survive. At this point I'm certain that I won't make it far, but that doesn't mean I won't try. The part of town I live in isn't really nice; in fact, you could say it's the lowest most dangerous part of town at the most. Now that the Mayor has found out about the massive amount of theft that's been going on in the past month or so, he's ordered a bunch of meathead officers, specially trained to hurt or possible kill anyone who tries to defy their orders, to stand on each corner of a block and steer clear of any poachers and honestly, they don't scare me one bit.

          I reach the alleyway that leads to a maze of many other alleys but I've been through here so many times before, I know my way around with my eyes closed. I knew I was running out of time because I had planned to meet someone in the nearby meadow, just behind the maze of fences, to make a trade, but with the law enforcements on my tail, I know I have to make a delay and send the meatheads on a wild goose chase. I jump the fence near the abandoned apartments and push down a couple trashcans on my way. I still have some time to find a place to hide while the officers are trying to get around the trashcans so I sprint to the nearest corner that I knew had a dumpster that I could conceal myself in until they pass by.

          The officers are gaining up on me and when I see the dumpster, I don't bother to think before I throw myself in. In less than a second, I hit the bottom with a loud thud and the lid of the dumpster closes above me, as an act of pain I arch my back and break out into a series winces, a couple of groans escape my mouth but it doesn't take more than a couple of footsteps to shut me up. As soon as I hear the footsteps, I sit up in a squatting position and crouch over to a spot in the dumpster where I could see whether or not it's safe to continue my mission. I know they haven't passed my location yet because I hear a couple of them still struggling to get through the obstacle of trashcans and I'm pretty sure I heard one of them say they were stuck on the fence. "I wonder what kinda standards it takes to be on the Woodward Heights police department." I think to myself.

          Since I have spare time, I decide to take a look at my pilfered goods. I remove my pack and dump everything out; I managed to steal a couple of diamond bracelets, rings, an emerald necklace and silver earrings. I gather all of the goods and decide to put them back before the officers pass by, before I could put everything back in my pack a small black stone engraved with tiny red fire flames rolls out of my bag, the stone looks so beautiful and besides what would a dealer want with this tiny stone, so I stuff it in my jacket pocket and put everything else in my bag. That looks like a fair amount of merchandise, in fact, I'd say this is more than enough to trade for a couple of fruits, bread, and some chili; My little brother loves chili which is why I'm saving that for him, I never was much fond of chili anyways.