" When it comes to the murder of Linda Crawford & The disappearance of Elijah Mastisson , Carly Mastisson you are found guilty. I sentence you to 20 years in Prison until you can make bail. Bail is set at 2 Million. Case dismissed."
When the judge slammed her gavel down my head pounded with the echo of the sound. Tears flowed from my face and so much remorse filled my body. " I shouldn't have never left the hospital with my kids." " Where will I get the money ?" " Who can I call ?" I had some many questions but those questions had answers that wouldn't do me any good.
I walked out the courtroom slowly shaking. I didn't have a jacket and it was freezing outside, I walked up the coffee machine and started to pour some in a cup. That's when I seen him, he had long hair and and he was dressed in a suit and tie an-" I paused as I realized that was the same man from my vision.
He had a pen in his mouth and was flipping through pages in a book and had a large briefcase. I looked at his every move he was so perfect and I was a wreck , but that's when he started walking towards me. I buttoned up my shirt and tried to fix my hair that's when walking beside me he filled up cup with coffee.
I could smell his cologne I sniffed,
Maybe a little too loud because he looked back and smiled and said," can I help you ?" I grinned and said," No Sir, but it would help if I knew your name."That was bold of me I thought but he answered," my name is Phillip." I nodded as if I was fascinated and then said," my name is Carly." I nodded too and then asked," what's a pretty girl like you doing here?"
I quickly thought to myself " should I lie of tell the truth ? If I tell the rough maybe he can help me."
Then I said," I'm here because-"
He interrupted and said," Ohhhhhh , you're Carly Mastisson you're here for trial for the murder of Linda Crawford." I guiltily nodded and asked," how'd you know ?"
" your name has filled the air of this courthouse this whole week." I liked down at my feet and started to cry.
He lifted my face up and said," in sure you'll make bail do you have anyone to call ?"
I shook my head, that's when he awed and said," I'm not doing anything this afternoon would you like to get lunch , or something ? "
I looked at his pockets and seen a huge bulge that must've been a bundle of money. I immediately nodded and he smiled and said," it's a date. "
I told him to meet me by the boutique and then we went our separate ways. I rushed to the boutique which was a few blocks down from the courthouse.
When I got there I slipped through the police tape and rushed to the drawer in which my money was stored in. Ever since I had the kids I haven't had time to ask for money on the streets. The last time I checked I had 234.56 that was enough to buy me a dress. So I collected the money and rushed to a nearby store.
I tried on many dressed and none of them fit me like this red on did. It hugged all of my curves and I liked great in it. I looked at the tag it read $6,000, I couldn't afford this dress but I had to have it even I had to seduce the cashier. I knew I would walk out the store with this dress but I didn't know how.
That's when without a thought I ripped the tag off the dress and ran out the store the alarm sounded even though I ripped the tag off. I looked behind me no one was chasing me, I ran through alleys and circled my way back to the boutique.
Once I was sure I wasn't being followed I decided to look in the mirror. The dress had this sort of feeling on me, it made me feel sexy, bold, and mysterious , it made me feel exclusive.
While admiring myself in the mirror I heard a knock on the window it was Phillip , I grabbed a long sharp jagged piece of glass off the floor and put it in my torn damaged purse that reeked of urine and walked out the door. I knew exactly how our date would go this evening.
There would be bloodshed.
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.