dandelions [s.r]

one

no one's POV:

there was something about the way the wind felt on her skin, the soft breeze running through her hair. the field was her place to rest and to get away from all of the craziness of the world. a place where she could be without anyone bothering her. angie understood what she was doing was wrong, how she shouldn't be killing people.

it wasn't like she enjoyed it, she just thought the world would be better off without them. she understood the justice system, her parents talked about it enough to where she knew she could easily get away with any crime. angie knew that eventually, it would catch up to her, but until that day, she isn't going to stop any time soon.

which is why she's sat here, staring at the sun, surrounded by flowers and weeds. she needs a place to find herself again, a place to reflect and make herself understand that what she is doing is right.

her parents weren't any better then her, they traveled a lot, and when they were home, they would act as if she wasn't there, discussing their cases that they had to work in full detail. they would explain how they got caught, how they killed and what gave them away.

once angie turned 18, she got out of the house. she couldn't stand the imagery, staying in that house any longer would've made her gone insane. her parents barely said goodbye to her when she had left, barely spared a second glance. angie could've been murdered, injured, attmited to a hospital, and they wouldn't bat an eye.

as she stands up, she hears sirens, getting closer and closer. the dandelion crown that was delicately made in her time at the field was hanging from her hand. she softly smiles as the breeze makes its way past her again. one last time, she thought as the red and blue lights got closer and closer to her. in her peripherals, she could see 2, maybe 3 SUVs and about 3 cop cars. finally making their way to a stop as people step out of the car, guns drawn, vests on.

"FBI, put your hands where i can see them!" someone yelled out.

angie places the crown on her head, something she had done since she was a child, and turns around. she knew this was the end of her legacy. the flashing lights danced across her face as she puts her hands up; she never wanted it to end but she knew it had to. there was no use in fighting back, she didn't want to die.

as angie sits in the back of a cop car, looking out the window as the city flies by, she knew this wasn't the end of her story. come on, the FBI has to know how she managed to find all of those serial killers in the first place.