I started to choke on my words, which barely came out, I couldn't believe my eyes. I knew it was wrong to question god but this was just unreal.
There she was just standing there in a long gown that was stained with blood I could see through her and her face was powder white she was an spirit. She said to me," Hello Carly."I still couldn't speak but she continued,"Go to the Warehouse! , Go to the Warehouse! Go to the Warehouse!" At this point going to the warehouse was the first thing I was going to do once I got free.
Then I asked in panic," How can I get out of here?" She pointed to the ground, and said," dig" so I did. After a few minutes of digging I found a sewer hole. Then I realized that this was my only way out alive.
I climbed in and watched my steps for wet,soiled tissue and rats. I was disgusting down there after that spirit had visited me, I was sorta on edge any noise I heard any shadow I seen scared me.
This time in the sewer gave me some time to think to myself. I thought to myself," how am I going to take care of a baby? I've never had to take care of anything in my life then I thought...Tim."
He was my first responsibility, my first love & my first ever boyfriend. Flashbacks of HighSchool paced through my mind how many sacrifices I had to make since I was introduced to beauty pageants and talent shows. How I missed prom, I thought to myself maybe that was probably the biggest mistake in my life.
My feelings stated to change about myself, I was never this Queen Bee that ruled the city I was just Carly. A normal girl, with high standards.
But is that too much to ask myself for? High standards? But I think my standards are a little too high? But if that's the case how'd Tim get into my heart so easily? I feuded with myself the whole time I was down there until I reached a ladder.
I climbed the ladder and emerged from the sewer whole I smelled horrific and my clothes were a mess. My cuts were healed but my face was dirty and bloody and my eyes were bloodshot but that was the least of my worries.
I don't know if it was a coincidence but the sewer whole that I emerged from was right in front of the boutique I haven't been there in a while I thought to myself.
I seen the door was ajar, that was a little unusual that's when I seen her. The woman that I saved from being mugged, even though we only had 1 altercation, I was sick of this bitch.
I took off my heels, and pulled my hair up in a pony tail. I didn't time to figure out why she was here, or what she wanted here but I knew it was about to go down.
YOU ARE READING
A Living Fancy
ActionMany stories matter. Stories have been used to dispossess and to malign. But stories can also be used to empower, and to humanize. Stories can break the dignity of humanity. But stories can also repair that broken dignity of being A Living Fancy.