Poisoned Waters | ✓

|𝟏𝟔| "𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐫𝐢𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬"

𝐒𝐌𝐎𝐊𝐄 diffused into the air, as Angelo exhaled heavily through his nostrils. He hated that he smoked. For just hitting his twenties, it was surely cutting a few years off of his spectrum; but his anxious self wouldn't mind decaying from the inside out, so he let it out with a puff. His finger held the tip of his bow, and he spun it anti-clockwise while the toxins filled his lungs.

Vengeance was a poison disguised as a sweet sillage of satisfaction. It attracted everyone, even those with the best intentions at hand. He envisioned Noah ahead of him as he aligned with the bullseye between his eyes.

He lifted his personalised bow and got into position. He drew back the string with the arrow attached with insane speed, aiming and shooting in a matter of seconds, smacking the bullseye. He knew exactly what he was doing. He lowered his bow and sighed, heaving a puff of smoke.

The young adolescents cheered and he lightly bowed in triumph. It was a routine for Angelo to teach the young children his expertise with a bow and arrow.

"Go ahead and try yourselves and I'll be coming around and helping you guys." Everyone went to their posts and began firing their arrows.

Angelo believed that it was a much swifter and silent weapon instead of a gun. It was a mastery of precision and patience, the perfection of trajectory and aim, as well as the strength to release the silent spear. An arrow was as lethal as a bullet, especially when he was shooting it.

Jasmine soon approached, cheering on a few of the kids as they released their arrows. She walked over to her brother, "They're getting better," she commented. He nodded. She quickly noticed the cigarette in his mouth and snatched it. "Bruv, what have I told you about smoking around the children?" she scolded. Angelo rolled his eyes and rose to shoot again.

"You already know that by the time they're my age, they'll have just as black lungs as I do. Their voices would already be gone from just all the screaming they'll do. I'm certain they'll live, Jas." he flatly retorted.

"You sure know how to fake a fucking smile when you need to." she scoffed at his depressing monologue. "Either way, the Drifters are on their way for Amir and Travis's body, they didn't sound happy."

He released his breath, once he shot, gaining another bullseye, "I wouldn't be either, Mackenzie definitely had that planned with that friend of his and Noah."

"You think? Noah seemed like he didn't know," Jasmine quizzed sceptically. "I guess it was sort of an eye for an eye, since one of their men was killed too." Jasmine shrugged, "Noah seemed pretty affected,"

"Joseph shouldn't have shot that gun. He now has something against us. After he kills Mack's stupid friend, he'll probably try to kill me too." he muttered.

His sister wrapped her arms around her body, as the wind began to pick up, "That'll start war, Angie,"

"Well, the Drifters will definitely want that now. Travis was shot in the back of the head, completely defenceless—" he answered, raising the bow once again, abruptly lifting the bow and shooting a bird flying overhead, it fell from the sky, "— if revenge starts a war then we move, innit."

   "I thought we were sticking to what Mum said, we stay peaceful."

   "The peace left as soon as Noah blew up Mum's rover, Jasmine," he replied assertively, and she caved in; worried that she was actually putting too much faith into Monet's words. Maybe he just wasn't good at all.

Angelo turned back to look at his younger sibling, pulling her into his side when he noticed her discomfort. He rested his chin atop her head and sighed, as she relaxed in his hold.