thirteen months 》cal

//one//

song / awake and alive by skillet

photo / gif of calcum k,bai

enjoy :)

☹☹☹☹☹☹☹☹☹☹☹☹☹

》13 months.

"Oh, c'mon Officer Harper," I bet he is surprised I called him officer and not by his first name like he's always used to from me; but nonetheless, his face didn't even crack. "Take me in, please! I just robbed Mr. Grey's shop. Ain't that enough for you to take me in?" It's true; I did rob Mr. Grey. Carol being Carol is definitely going to find an a way to drop all the chargers. I mean, he always does and I hate him for it. "I was caught on tape, wasn't I? Isn't that enough proof for the station?"

"Crisstina," he barks, his breath coming out in smoke puffs in the air due to the whether. "Go home."

"B-but Carol-"

"Grey isn't hurt. The twenty you took, you gave back. Nothing else in the shop is missing. You're under the clear. Why can't you call it a day and go home?"

He knows why.

"That's not how I'd tell the story." I singsong, swaying on the balls of my feet and eyeing the cricket bat a few meters away from us. "Neither will Mr. Grey."

Carol turns around to get back in his car and I act before thinking. I swing my left fist and at the exact moment I'm doing so, Carol decides to turn back around and say a few words. I miss aim, my fist coming in strong contact with his gun.

I cry in pain at the graze of a couple knuckles against the cold object, my hand already numb and aching from the freezing air.

"You really wanna get away that bad, huh?"

"More than you know." I reply, heaving a sigh.

He put a hand on my shoulder and lead me into the backseat. Alas, I get my way even without a troubling reason.

-

》47mins ago.

"Grey." I nod out of respect.

Slowly but surely, he nods back. "Crisstina."

I pace around the glass counters and drag the bat along the tiled floor underneath the soul bottom of my shoes. "I need your help," I say wholeheartedly.

"I sense you do," he smiles, reveling his crooked teeth.

"I'm not gonna hurt you." There is a white glass bird beside a black beaded necklace. I trace the feather carvings in the bird, not looking at Grey as we spoke. "I just need Carol down here."

He takes the hat off his head, shaking his hair loose, and putting it right back on. "What is it I shall do?"

"Your job."

I wait until he occupies himself with something behind the solid counters, the ones that aren't glass. The bird, I slid it right through the front pocket of my coat.

"Excuse me," Mr. Grey says aloud. "Aren't you going to pay for that miss."

I had snuck the bird right back, just not to its previous spot.

"Pay for what?" I act dumbfounded.

"Come with me, dearie." He pushes at me with a wand-stick - stick that looks a lot like a wand.

I let out a puff of frustration, rolling my eyes.

He reaches over the desk and turns the screen to his computer. But little did he know, by the time he stopped reaching, my bat is half an inch from touch the back of his head.