The Devil Of District 7

Chapter {1}

The street seems quiet, in the dead of the night. It is dark, full of old buildings ready to crumble. This, is the bad and dangerous part of town. The place where no one wants to live.

A faint sound can be heard if you walk closer to an alley.

In this alley, is me. Just doing some graffiti on the side of one of those crappy buildings.

One hand on my plastic mouth mask, the other pressuring the bright paint out of the metallic can. No one would care anyway, the people here are always too drunk to notice anything and I mean always. Day or night.

My hood is up on my dark hair, just in case the police decides to pay a little visit to the district and sees me.

By the way, hi, the name's Bailey, I have been told by my sister that I turned 17 two weeks ago. I live in this shit hole called Brightwood Pines, more precisely in the district 7 of Brightwood, the one I am right in at this moment.

My head whips to my left when my ears pick up the sound of footsteps and my finger immediately release the valve of my paint can.

Normally I wouldn't pay much attention to them but those ones seem different. They don't sound like drunken footsteps. Those belong to a person perfectly sober.

My reaction is quite quick, I drop the can in one of dumpsters near by, take off the gloves I was previously wearing and put them in back pockets. My mask is now attached by a string behind my head and my hood almost reaches my eyes.

I take off running without thinking, my feet leading my body by themselves. I can hear the stranger's the footsteps enter the narrow alley. What a bummer, I didn't even have the time to finish my graffiti. I had a good feeling about this one.

Oh well.

I grab my phone from my leather jacket and put my earphones on, still running.

When I reach the end of the alley I rest my back on the side of the building and wait patiently for the stranger to reveal themselves.

The music is not too loud so I can hear them coming. My foot up against the bricks bounces softly along with 'The script's' Hall of Fame.

I know they are not cops, otherwise they would've yelled at me to stop from the start. Can't say that I was very discreet while picking up my stuff.

I stare down at my beat up Chuck Taylors and notice a yellow stain on the black fabric.

"Shit!"

I take a deep breath. Those shoes are my favorite ones and the paint is impossible to clean off completely!

A sigh escapes my lips. I guess it was bound to happen one day or another.

"Too bad, Chuck Taylors are so expensive nowadays." I freeze, this voice does not belong to me.

I let out a shriek and jump back when I finally see some dude standing next to me at the entrance of the alley.

He chuckles at my reaction to his presence, "Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you." He takes a step closer, "Thought that you heard me arriving but I guess not."

I pull my left earphone out of my ear, "Was it you in the alley?" A smirk finds its place on my face, "Because for a guy, your footsteps are pretty light," I pause for a second, "Like a girl's."

The amusement on his face is gone in a matter of seconds and I burst out laughing.

The stranger standing before me growls lowly and I almost feel a shiver down my back. "Be careful of what you say, lady. It could bring a lot of trouble."