Saving The Gangsta

t w e l v e

t a y l o r

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I'm not addicted to drugs or alcohol. I'm addicted to escaping reality

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Astrid Cleveland must pray for mischief.

The echo of a door closing rattles the house, and caused both Hayden and I to gaze at each other with confusion.

"Becca's going to kill her." Hayden mutters, standing up and glancing at his food longingly.

"Bring it with us." I gesture towards it, grabbing my phone. "Come on, I know where she's going."

***

"Arry?"

We watch her carefully as she stares up at the stars. Her eyes flicker, but she doesn't move. A soft smile plays on her lips.

"We all run around this planet turning humans into drugs, and then wonder so brokenly why we're hurting. It's like throwing a match on gasoline and then asking why it's burning. The universe is such a beautiful place, yet it's still human nature to destroy everything we touch." She mumbles quietly.

Hayden's eyes catch mine, and I resist the urge to let my lips move upwards. She's crazy. Honestly crazy.

But that's what I like about her.

"Are you sober, Cleveland?" I question.

This time her smirk widens, she turns until her eyes met mine. "I'm somewhat functional."

"So that's a no?" Hayden cuts it, staring at her with a loving glimmer in her eyes which made a dark spark burn my stomach.

"Do you ever wish things were different?" She questions once again, her blue eyes shining delicately under the gentle moonlight. "Do you ever wonder who we would be if the war never started?"

"Not really." I affirm, "Do you?"

"Every single day." She admits demurely, "Believe it or not, even gang members imagine a future without gangs."

"And what would that future be, Arry?" Hayden inquires, tilting his head slightly in curiosity.

She smiles, "I never wished for money or anything like that. I wanted to marry my best friend, and have two beautiful children- Lucas and Lorrie."

"You can still have that future," Hayden consoled her, taking a step forward. "I know I will, with Scarlett."

"Oh, Hayden." She smiled solemnly, moving her gaze to the sky. "My story won't end like that."

"How will it end then?" I ask her, my brows furrowing slightly.

"At the barrel of a gun." She replies softly, speaking as though it meant nothing to her. She sits down on the floor, wrapping her arms around her knees. "I know you both think I'm crazy, but people have been calling for my death my entire life. It's only a matter of time until one of the bullets finally hits its target."

"I've already told you, I won't let that happen." I force out, our eyes meeting.

"You don't get it, Taylor. My death has been talked about since before I was born." She replies, "And anyway, you don't even want to be near me. Because of Becca."