Frantic

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Niamey POV:

Gerard way's genius screams in my ears as I sit on the small metal stool in the art studio, texting my mother.

"Yes mom, I'll be home soon" I type. I check my watch and add "I'm actually about to leave" and click send.

Someone taps me on the shoulder.

Oh yeah, I work here.

I pull one earbud from my ears.

"What?" I groan.

The small girl standing before me is crying.

"I didn't mean to! I sware!" She fires, than looks behind her at a large tin of red acrylic paint. Except its not resting upon the large wooden chair like I like I left it. It is splattered across the mosaic floor. I gasp in horror.

"I'm so sorry." The girls mother apologizes. "Jemma, go help that girl clean that mess up."

"Umm... My name is Niamey." I say awkwardly. I really need to get home.

"Niamey's a pretty name." The little girl squeaks.

I fix my multicolored side bangs to the side then I swipe a rag from the counter beside me and get onto my knees.

( an hour later)

The blood red stain is still there.

"I'm so sorry" says the woman for about the 80th time. Jemma nods sheepishly.

I shrug. "It's my boss you should be apologizing to. I like it. It's like a murder scene. Death by acrylic." I joke.

Then Jemma and her mother grimace out the door, obviously repulsed by this remark. I laugh at my cruel sence of humor then follow them out.

It's really cold. And I forgot my black hoodie at the art studio. I shiver and wrap my arms around myself.

"Like it makes a difference." I groan. I can't make out stars in the black night. Not even the moon.

"Mom," I type frantically into my phone. No answer. I'm so afraid. Help me! I repeat in my mind over and over. " I am lost." I type into my phone and hit send.

Still no answer. Then my phone dyes. NO THIS CAN'T BE HAPPENING!!! I hear footsteps behind me.

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