Deadly Gifts

Chapter One

Press, hold, move, shift. Press, hold, move, shift. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat...... I inhale the sharp smell of aerosol paint and relish the sound that comes from the can it is packaged in. Paint covers my hands but I don't falter. I don't have time to. So much to do in so little time. I'm so focused on my piece that the only thing I can hear over my heavy breathing, is the loud crescendo of my heart beat as I continue another one of my "bad habits" as many adults call it. But how can something so beautiful be so bad? I step back from the building to eye my handy work. When I pictured what life would be like when I was older, vandalism was never in the plans. Then again, neither was fearing for my life every day.

The abandoned building on the corner of West Avenue now bears a very realistic picture of a naked back with torn flesh thanks to yours truly. Crossing the unidentified persons back are heavy chains. The chains are intricately woven around the body that it is in a way, beautiful. At the bottom of the mural is a small bird. A raven to be exact. Most street artists leave a tag behind that has no correlation with their true name, but I've always felt a special connection to ravens even if the word is similar to my namesake. When I was little some said I even resembled the terrifying yet beautiful bird. Even now at the age of seventeen I resemble it. More so, if possible, than when I was younger. Back then it was my looks every one compared to the creature. Now my personality is mixed in with its likeliness.

The police sirens that sound in the distance pull me out of thoughts. I pull my hood down, tuck my hands in my pockets that hold a rag to clean my hands, and begin to walk along the sidewalk toward the piecing noise. If you act normal they don't suspect you. Considering I've been defiling buildings for years and have yet to be caught this system works. The more I walk, the louder the sirens get until I see familiar flashing lights approaching me. I continue to walk without purposefully glancing at them but I can see them in the corner of my eye. I don't stare but I always see.

"Hey little lady!" I turn my head toward the young officer. The cruiser is pulled close to the curb, almost going over. I push my hair behind my ears in an attempt to look casual. The movement brings attention to my face. I feel his eyes rake over my face, making him avoid looking at my hands.

"What's seems to be the problem officer?" I raise my voice a few octaves to add to the demure facade.

"What's a pretty girl like you walking alone at night and a place like this?" he says slightly condescendingly. I lower my eyes to the ground and scuff my shoes. I bit my lip, faking embarrassment.

"I, umm, well I just needed to get out of the house the 'rents are screaming constantly and I needed a break. What better than a walk right? But it seems I was out a lot longer than I expected I one wrong turn after another led me here. Oh and I'm lost. Just my luck." I say with a rueful smile and roll my eyes.

He looks me over with sympathetic eyes and I know that I've already won. Like always. But it's not until he speaks how perfect this situation is. "How about I give you lift?" Hook. Line. Sinker. I glance at him with fake hesitate.

" I don't want to be an inconvenience......." I trail off. He waves his hand and opens the other door of the cruiser.

"Come on. It's no problem." His smile is deceivingly charming. And slightly disarming. But I'm not gonna let a boy get to me just because he's charming. Besides, I know the ins and outs of deceiving and charming.

I walk across the road to the already open door and slide in. The seats are covered in a cloth that seems to have been made for discomfort. My side of the car has the permanent smell of body odor and what looks like ketchup. Honestly I don't think this guy has the guts to hit any one let only cause enough badly damage to make them bleed.