𝔹𝕒𝕝𝕝𝕖𝕣𝕚𝕟𝕒 ~ 𝕁𝕒𝕧𝕚𝕖𝕣 𝔼𝕤𝕔𝕦𝕖𝕝𝕝𝕒 𝕏 𝕆𝕔

1:Van Der Linde Gang

The tips of my toes ached as I kept twirling around the smooth floorboards, the piano sounding as beautiful as it is. The pain became to much to handle as I fell to the floor.

"Ah..!" I groan while rubbing my feet through my pointes. "Stop giving up! You need to practice harder!" My mother yelled at me as she stopped playing he piano.

"You try this old hag..." I mutter getting up.
'I can't wait to get out of here.'

[Blackwater 1898]

"Come on Foubre! Faster! Hyah!" I yell at my horse. The lawman who are chasing me increases, I'm trying so hard not to get shot again. The gun shot on the left side of my stomach is pouring blood.

Everything around me is dizzy, but I know I can't stop now. Not ever. I quickly ride out of Blackwater and luckily lose the law. But I see a tiny group of men following me. I go up a hill of the rode to a tree.

Maybe I can stop the bleeding here. I slide off my horse and put pressure on my new wound. Then grab the bandages from out of my saddle bag. I lift my shirt up a bit just enough to see the wound fully.

It's pretty deep, blood still pouring, everything slowly turning to black. I stumble back, the bark of the tree hits my back. I try to keep myself awake but I can't. The men I saw earlier get closer and closer.

I pull out my gun and aim it at them. "Wow, calm down miss. We just wanna help." A raspy voice came from a man with slick black hair. I still kept my gun held up, but the darkness took over. I slowly drop the gun and pass out.

{Sometime later}

My eyes flutter open from loud yelling from two deep voices, I can't focus on it from my big headache. I sit up as slow as I can remembering about my new scar. I groan as I sit up all the way.

Probably letting people know I'm up now. I shit over to the side of the cot I lay on and see my boots on the other side. I grab the and put them on just in case if I gotta start running. I've made a pretty big name about myself.... 'Juliette Baker' a black widow who killed her abusive husband, also many more men... But my husband was a very well known Business man.

I grip my side and push myself off the cot with another groan and look around for my gun belt which was placed on a small table. I buckle it on my pants and then find my satchel spread out on the ground. Did they look through it?

I grabbed it and looked in it. My money and jewelry are gone. Great, just fucking great.

I put it over my shoulder, still gripping my side, I then grab my hat and walk out of the tent flaps. There are people around the fire, people walking around. But none really acknowledge me.

But one did, the man I saw before passing out. I try and walk away but he calls for me before I can get away. "Hey! You! Come here a moment!" I softly sigh and walk to him.

"Yes sir?" "Whats Your Name?" He has a very familiar face. "Juliette Baker." "Dutch Van Der Linde." He puts out his hand for me to shake, I cautiously took it.

[1898, a couple weeks after.]

"Ah putain!" I practically screeched as Bill tripped over a rock and spilled beer all over my freshly clean clothes I wore. "Watch where your going prick!" He yells at me. So it's my fault? "Excuse me?" I say back as people start watching.

"Watch it prick." He repeats. You know what? Fuck it! I use all my unknown strength to throw the fat bastard to the ground by his collar. "Dummy up fatty! Or I'll putain de make you!" I grabbed his collar again and punched him across the face using all my strength again. His cheek now had a small gash with blood trickling out of it.

I let go of his collar and got off him. Then started walking away towards the tree I usually go to. I sit down and try to calm my adrenaline down. It slowly goes away, but surely.

"You're pretty strong." An accented voice calls out from behind me. "For a girl?" I spit back. "No, no chica. For a person." I look up to the face of Javier. He's a pretty good guy, handsome really but he's a pretty good friend.

"Je veux tirer sur quelqu'un en ce moment, n'importe quoi." I mutter and get a confused look from Javier. "Sorry." I look away.

"French sounds hard." He sits beside me. "Spanish sounds hard." I laugh out with him. The silence is comforting, the sounds of laughter coming from the camp. All of a sudden I feel the need to dance and sing along with the gang as they did.

They all sang around the fire, tonight was just a good night for (almost) everyone. I miss Ballet. The memory's of younger me being so energetic and passionate about it. All they way from learning how to not fall while standing on the tips of your toes to how to do massive jumps.

I still have to flexibility, I know it, I mean damn I still do stretches everyday. But Dancing again doesn't feel right, I'll do it one day. Just not today.

Javier senses how interested I am in what the gang is doing. He gets up and offers a hand for me to grab. "Care to join me amiga?" I giggle and grab his hand.

"Yes amie."