"please, just let me help you"
"why should i? everyone i know either dies or thinks i'm a total freak show"
Georgia Ray is a social outcast. Nobody bothers to spare her a second glance, unless it's to roll their eyes or scoff. Living alone w...
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IT WAS A FEW DAYS LATER when Georgia Ray was actually trying to clean her room. Her frizzy hair was barely kept up by a rubber band and she was dressed in an over-sized t-shirt and spandex shorts. Her shirt was light blue and had the Beacon Hills Police Department insignia in the corner. It was once her father's.
Georgia blew a strand of dark hair out of her eyes as she bent over, grabbing a pile of clean clothes out of her basket before going to put them away in her dresser. She already had all her dirty clothes in the washer and managed to clear off her bed.
"Unit one, copy," the police radio on her bedside table creaked out over static. Georgia hummed as she went and turned up the volume, knowing the dispatch was trying to reach the Sheriff.
Georgia then turned to finish putting away her clothes.
"Unit one copy," the Sheriff soon responded.
"Got a possible 187," dispatch came through. Georgia's jaw dropped along with the random article of clothing in her hand.
She quickly grabbed a pen and notebook off her table, jotting down all the information communicated. Once she had it down, she grabbed her bag and ran out to where Nate was sat in the main room eating a bag of chips.
"Nate, dispatch just reported a possible dead body," Georgia told him before adding on the location and known information.
"Jesus Christ people are dropping like flies lately," Nate said through a bite of food in his mouth. He rolled up the chip bag, going to put it away, "You're not coming."
Georgia made an annoyed face, "Listen, it's either you take me in your nice little cop car or I follow behind you on my bike, risking me being involved in a hit and run."
Nate slowly looked over at her, nodding with a smile when he saw how dead set she was, "Fine, let's go."
Georgia clapped out of excitement as she followed him out of the house, locking the door behind them. Nate was already in his police uniform, simply having to button up his shirt. They rode with the sirens on all the way to the movie store where they both got out.
Nate instantly found himself busy elsewhere while Georgia approached the nearby ambulance. She was surprised to see Jackson and Lydia there, the latter appearing to be in a daze.
"Lydia? Are you okay?" she asked once close enough, now with her polaroid camera hanging around her neck. Lydia met Georgia's eyes, clearly shell shocked.
"I think," she replied in an almost mouse-like voice. Georgia didn't even notice the Sheriff's arrival as Jackson started arguing with the EMT.
"Why the hell can't I just go home? I'm fine," Jackson was pissed off.
"I hear ya, but the EMT says you hit your head pretty hard," Noah Stillinski made his presence known, "They just wanna make sure you don't have a concussion."
