A/N: Hey!
Well, this my first ff for CSI Las Vegas. I have been watching it for a while, but I've only just started watching it all in order from the beginning. :) So far I'm about half way through series one :)
I have no idea what made me come up with the idea for this story! It just kind of came to me lol... I'm not entirely sure whether to continue with it though :/ If enough people let me know they are interested, I'll definitely carry on! I have a few chapters written already, so I might see what people think after a few chapters :)
Please please PLEASE read and review to let me know you think! I don't mind criticism (as long as it is constructive and not just for the sake of being mean) and I would rather see a review with things that I need to improve on than no review at all. I strongly believe that since I started posting things on here, all the comments I have received have helped me to become a better writer so...yeah... Please do it!
Thanks a million!
xoloveJBox
Prologue.
It was dark in Molly's room. She had drawn the curtains to shield her pounding head from the light that flooded in. She lay on her bed listening to her mother crash around and swear downstairs, each sound like a knife to her brain. Molly had had a bad day, and it had only gotten worse when she'd returned home to discover that her mother had been drinking since mid-afternoon.
Again.
Molly considered finding somewhere else to stay for the night, but very few of her friends would agree to put her up anymore because they all hated her mother, and there were no more hotels in Chicago that she hadn't used before. Molly knew that her mother would look for her if she didn't return home, leaving a path of destruction behind her. For anyone else, this would have been a good thing, but not for Molly, who wished she could just disappear. Molly's mother had always told her daughter that she would never get away, that no matter where she went, Molly would be found. The worst part was Molly believed her.
The only thing that helped Molly through her mother's 'moods' was the knowledge that she wasn't always like that. It was only when she had been drinking. The rest of the time, Molly knew that her mother was one of the nicest people on the planet. The problem was that the alcohol consumption was increasing in both frequency and quantity, and there was nothing Molly could do or say to change it.
Molly had just been dozing into blissful sleep when she was jerked awake by her mother screaming her name up the stairs.
"Molly Stokes, get your butt down here right now!"
Molly sighed and got up, but her head spun and she had to wait a second to steady herself. As she felt her way across the room, Molly left her glasses on the bedside table. They were beyond being helpful anyway. Molly slowly made her way down the stairs, squinting over how much brighter it seemed in the lower half of the house. Molly only had to follow the crashes and bangs to locate her mother in the kitchen, opening cupboards and slamming them closed again, apparently not finding what she was looking for.
"What's wrong Mom?" Molly whispered, pain rushing through her head.
"I can't find the tea bags." Her mother spat in response, not even looking at her sixteen year old daughter. Molly knew it was a good sign that her mom was looking for the tea. It meant that she had either had enough alcohol, or she had run out. However, it didn't matter to Molly which one it was. It meant that it wouldn't be long until her mother crashed out on the couch and Molly herself could go to sleep.
Molly quickly found the box of tea and handed them to her mom. However, Molly's mom simply gave her a dirty look and brought her hand up, giving Molly a hard whack over the back of her head. The action took Molly by surprise, and she winced, holding her head to make sure it didn't split into two.
"Quit hiding my stuff." The woman muttered darkly. "Did you find a job today?"
"No, not one that pays better than the one I have." Molly replied quietly, but she immediately wished that she had at least stretched the truth and told her mother that there were some promising chances. Despite her level of education, the only job Molly had managed to find was in a small, oily mechanics that paid peanuts and attracted the wrong kind of people.
"What the hell use is a college education if you can't even get a job from it? You can't buy squat with what you make." Her mother slurred angrily, pouring the boiling water from the kettle and missing the mug slightly, leaving a steaming puddle on the counter-top.
Molly had graduated high school at the age of twelve, going onto college until she was sixteen. Now, a few months later when all her friends were preparing to start their junior year, Molly had nothing to do. No one liked the idea of hiring a sixteen year old who was supposed to be at school, no matter how early she had finished. For most of the jobs Molly had been interviewed for, she was either too under experienced or over educated.
"Well, maybe if you didn't spend it all on booze, we'd have enough to pay the bills." Molly retorted, her hand flying to her mouth and her eyes diverting as soon as the words escaped. She didn't know what was coming over her, answering back like that was stupid and she knew it.
"What did you say?"
Molly didn't answer because she didn't know what to say, instead she reached for a cloth to clean up her mother's spillage. As she moved across the kitchen to where her mom stood, her mom threw her a disgusted glance.
"Are you stupid or something?" she asked in her southern drawl that was prolonged by intoxication. Molly let out a small gasp when her mom suddenly yanked her head backwards by her hair, forcing her eyes to the ceiling. Her mother waited for Molly to look at her feebly before giving a sharp, back handed slap across her cheek, sending Molly off balance and reeling to the floor.
"I said: are you stupid?" the woman screamed as Molly attempted to pick herself up.
Molly closed her eyes as the punched and kicks rained down on her like a strong, unexpected shower. She didn't want to see the look on her mother's face again. She wasn't sure she could deal with it again. The insults were bad enough, and there was no way for Molly to block her ears and protect her body, so she settled for hearing the accusations and mockeries.
But Molly was used to it now. Usually she managed to block it all out. What she wasn't used to, however, was feeling long, slender fingers close around her windpipe. Panic struck her body at that moment, treading unfamiliar territory. Her mother had never gone so far, never been so close to the edge.
Molly kicked out, gripping at her mom's fingers to try and release them. Her lungs screamed in pain, and she tried to call out, but no sound escaped. Her face began to feel warm, and she clawed desperately at her throat. Her head felt like it was being filled with air, and Molly's fear only increased when the edges of her vision began to fade. Within a second or two, though it felt like hours to Molly, she felt her legs turn limp, and while she tried feverishly to continue, she could no longer control her fingers. Sound rushed in her ears, and the whole world darkened to nothingness, leaving only stillness and silence in its wake.
Molly's mother watched in horror for a second while her daughter convulsed on the ground at her feet, before falling motionless. She looked down at her fingers, immediately sober. She tried to shake Molly, but got no response. Terrified, she jumped to her feet and ran out the front door, slamming it behind herself, wondering what she had done.