The Not-So-Fabulous Killjoy

Chapter One - Danger Days

"...and that's all our time today. Don't get dusted, and I'll see you tomorrow."
Beatrix F. Summer turned the dial on her radio as the sound went to static. She shut it off, and leaned on the little hill she'd found the other day.
You know you can't live like this forever, she thought to herself.
"I totally can," she said to herself. "I've been doin' it this long. I'm Sunny Side, dude! I've been like this for years." She picked up her gun and shot at an empty can a while away.
Yeah, yeah, Beatrix Summer, the biggest Killjoy fangirl in all of Battery City! She's been 'doin' it' since her family all died.
"It was tragic," she monologued. "At the hands of a savage, crazed draculoid. But did you see me? I shot his head off! And without any practice! Amazing! The crowd goes wild!" She mimed applause and cheering, sarcastically.
Haha, very funny. It's only a few more years, or months, or weeks, or days. You can't survive like this, all on your own, stealing food, with only your mangled radio and half-broken gun.
"It's been ten years, hun. I can handle myself by now. I'm twenty-three."
You still act twelve.
"And I look fourteen. I get it. I know."
She sat down, fiddling with the can of food she'd found yesterday.
"Mmm, I haven't eaten in forever."
Four days.
"I know, I know."
After finishing her meal, she laid out her tent. As destroyed as it might be, it helped her sleep.
"It's the Danger Days, Trixie," she said to herself. "We can do it. Just Bee and Trixie. Beatrix. Sunny Side."
Why did you bother naming me? It makes you sound like a psycho.
"Nah, it makes you sound cool." She sighed, smiling. "'Night."
~~~~~~~~~~
Beatrix woke with a start, hearing a noise. "Who's there?" By instinct, she grabbed her gun and stood, holding it out.
After a few moments of silence, she looked around and lowered it.
"Bad dream," she mumbled. "False alarm." She sat back down, trying to breathe slow. She was on the verge of an anxiety attack, and eventually calmed herself down.
"God, that... scared me. I'm hungry. Are you feeling up for some food?"
You shouldn't eat so much. You'll get fat.
"Oh, come on. I've been without food for a month before and I was anorexic for a year. I can eat two days in a row without suddenly becoming obese."
Sure, sure, go find some food. You'll realize I'm right soon enough.
She picked up her gun and hid her radio behind the nearest rock, and pulled on her leather jacket. Her jacket was her proudest thing. It had red and purple, her two favorite colors, on each side and it was leather, bearing all the marks of age. It even had a stitched sun design over her heart. She loved it. It hid her arms, kept her warm on the coldest of nights, and her mom had given it to her.
"Alright then, let's go, Trix."
If you're going to name me, at least say it right.
"Trixie. Right. Just me and you."
She slowly exited the tent, looking around. Once she was sure the coast was clear, she snuck around behind the hill she was camping behind. Sure enough, by some stroke of luck, there was a campsite, and, evidently, nobody was there.
"Score!" she whispered, fist-pumping the air. She slinked slowly to the food that seemed to be laid out near one of the tents.
Danger! Danger! Watch out! You'll get caught!
"It's fine," she whispered, as quiet as possible. Finding some shelter behind the tent, she slowly and sneakily grabbed a can of food--

and heard a familiar male voice shout from behind her, "Who are you, and what are you doing?!"