Recenlty I reluctantly stumbled into this hell hole known as San Adreas; famous for prostitues, drug addicts of all kinds, and most importantly the infamous gang-banger Ballas. Didnt take an arrogant genius to realize how much I despised this disgraceful stain of a state on America, my hearts desire to hastily leave it all behind me and venture onward to the next state. Just like I had been doing for the past six years by myself.
For most average Americans or your common criminal, there is no difficulty whatsoever in beginning a brand new life just by moving to another state or quite possibly another country. But no for me it has to be a never-ending battle in order to extinguish all the despair, dread and heartache fluttering continously about my soul. At least thats what always figured before this deranged, psychopathic hipster just barges right into my life. Believe it or not, that derange psycho formerly known as Trevor Philips was my supposed soulmate.
He was everything I expected. Another hipster living out in Sandy Shores to avoid the banks, cops, or whatever the fuck it is most hipsters avoid, is in charge of some methamphetamine making business then kills any and all miniscule competition, but the real deal breaker was how he had no sense of personal hygiene. Only originality this fucker possessed was his temper.
What I didnt anticipate was how we finally fell in love after overcoming so many fucking trivial obstacles, but it let me just say in my personal opinion that it was totally worth it. Others still think otherwise and contemplate to this day why a pretty, remotely sane girl is with such an unstable, unpredictable psycho. I got my reasons but you'll figure that out soon enough,
We'll get to all that soon enough but for now lets start at the beginning, maybe start off by giving you a descriptive idea of what I look like, hmm?
Currently, im a twenty-three year old girl, meaning ive been traveling around the country since the age of seventeen, meaning im also a dropout but still dont give a fuck to this day. My skin was a fairly golden brown tan that could only come from many, many hours out in the blazing sun.
My eyes were brown too, but of a different shade. More like a light hazel with a splash of cinnamon brown to be seen on the bottom in the perfect lighting.
People always comment that my hair is the darkest they've ever seen. To quote my foster fathers personal opinion on the matter, it was a perfect mixture of jet black oil and tar combined. All poured into a long, thick and untamed mane of hair that traveled downwards to my thick hips.
As for the clothes, they werent anything fancy or glamorous like fashion designer branding or any of the expensive shit found at Ponsonbys. The shirt was some jade green colored tube top I came across, able to protect my breasts comfortably but left my navel exposed. For the pants, they were just regular, baggy black sweatpants that I tucked into my purple heeled boots, which had a flame design growing along the side.
Lastly, I had on a number of accessories. For instance, a purple colored headband placed just above my messy bangs and a jade green skull piercing punctured in my right ear. Along each wrist, I had on a golden bangle that chimed musically with every gesture my hands made.
As ive stated above, I'm a child runaway with barely any money to even feed herself. But what do you expect? When I was just a newborn, my mother abandoned me on the doorstep of some rundown orphanage out in Arizona. It wasnt some fancy fucking mansion where life is bliss, and you dont gotta worry about going to sleep hungry nearly every night.
What was worse was that drunk excuse known as my foster mother, who called me every mean, terrible, offending thing out there on a daily basis. Her favorite being harlot. And when she struck me, like really hard across the face, I thought for certain id never smile or be happy again.
That was until I got to know my new foster dad more, and he was simply amazing. Always knew how to make me smile, feel safe, like there was nothing to be afraid of out there.
But of course, happiness in my life never really lasted forever. Soon enough, it just dies out and leaves me devastated again.
Thats how I got here; walking along the hot, metal train tracks with a sprained leg to nowhere with my skimpy pet tailed behind.
As for my leg that happened in a little collision off the Great Senora freeway. I was just zooming along the road, listening to some music on Non-Stop-Pop FM when this total douchebag comes out of nowhere and nearly flattens me with his fucking truck.
Thank fuck I had on a helmet, or id be even more insane than I currently am. Unfortunately, both my right leg and motorcycle took some damage. Leaving me hopelessly stranded in Sandy Shores,
Returning to my current objective, I was musing over ways in which to escape this hot, barren wasteland full of horny, inbred hill billies and straight up creepy man. But they all had faults to em.
'Lets see, I cant exactly walk down the highway to Los Santos or Paleto Bay for a number of reasons. One, ill most likely get molested by some trucker or sicko before I even get halfway to either one. And secondly, there are a bunch of mountain lions out there that would just love to devour a weakened female.' I thought, sighing bitterly in annoyance, causing Ava to curiously perk her head up at me.
'If I cant limp there, then I could maybe...Gah, I don't fucking know. Hotwire some rundown car that barely gets over thirty miles per hour? Oh yeah, love to see how that plays out.' I debated sarcastically while drastically running short on ideas by the minute. Any others involved some of those dirty cops getting up in my business and I don't need that right now.
Then right when I presumed escape from this disgraceful state of America was truly inevitable after all, someone sent me a sign saying otherwise.
The roar of a plane could be hear a few clicks ahead, its source being a yellow painted crop duster taking off into the clear blue skies above. My red, chapped lips contorted into a malicious smirk towards the empty hangar.
"Works for me." I said cooly, tying Ava's worn-out leash into a tight, firm knot along a sturdy tree branch. Just to ensure she'd stay safely hidden while I deal with busienss.
Shakily staggering down the steep but short hill along the train tracks with caution. Afterwards, I brushed a hand both across my slightly tattered clothes with the other fixing my messy mane a little so that id look slightly decent before walking across the runway casually.
"Hello?" I called aloud, swerving my hazel colored eyes about in search of any human figure. So far, there was none. "Is anyone here?" I asked out loud yet again, but still heard no response.
Only the sound of my boots scraping pebbles and sand along the dusty, old runway as I took small, slow steps through the quiet area was all I could hear. Then my eyes came to a stop when seeing a peculiar helicopter.
It was black and silver, but had some fuzzy, tangerine writing along the sides. Clearly, this guy used a lot of spray paint to get it like this.
My almond shaped eyes squinted to make out the words that read 'Trevor Philips Industries.' Meaning this lowlife must be the boss around these parts.
"Yo, there a Trevor Philips here or what?" I called out in my normal, sassy tone for the third and final time.
Dead silence drifted through the air for only a minute, before I sprinted with a slight limp towards a red and white plane currently not in use. No one was here no, but no doubt they had security cams or some shit like that.
Climbing aboard the seat of this dated plane, it was a thing of pure luck when I noticed this dumbass left his keys in the ignition. What an idiot!
Twisting the silver key to the right roughly in desperation to just get out of here, all I got was a stalled stutter from the engine. Groaning in annoyance, I tried again.
Because I had gotten so wrapped up in trying to get this piece of crap machine to function, I hadnt noticed a sandy brown rottweiler exiting a nearby, rundown shack. Or that it started barking loudly for that matter.
'Cmon, start already ya rusted piece of shit!' I angrily demanded, and with one final tug my prayers had been answered upon hearing the plane before me roar to life-support.
Hopping out of the plane quickly, I didnt waste anymore time and ran out of the hangar, proceeding to untie my furry friend so we could both get the fuck outta here.
Things had been goin real easy. Too easy. So of course, they ironically had to always get worse somehow.
Coming to a screeching halt just a smidge away from hitting me, out came a man, most likely the owner that was anything but happy right now.
"ALRIGHT, WHOSE THE SORRY LITTLE FUCKER THAT TRESPASSED ONTO MY PROPERTY, HUH?!" He barked loudly in questioning, those brown eyes blazing their wild fury directly at me.
Every being within my body urged me to run, move, anything! I couldnt comply no matter how hard I tried. Instead, I could only observe this strange, pale man.
He appeared to be in his mid-fourties, possibly within his late thirties at the very least. He looked to be going bald, but still had a mullet of dry, brown hair to match his mysterious, and clearly crazed brown eyes glazed with blood lust no doubt.
His attire consisted of a dirty white, v-neck shirt that showed off that clever 'Cut Here' tattoo along his neck. His pants weren't any cleaner than his shirt, and his boots were just covered in a mixture of blood, gristle and dirt. Clearly, this guy aint friendly.
Taking note of that, I decided now would be a good time to run off. However, I acted too late, as he pinned me down against the hot, rough ground below and straddled my waist.
'Yep, just what I figured. A psychopathic pervert that wants to rape me.' I figured, and wasnt about to have that.
"Who sent ya, huh?! Those assholes from the Lost, those fucking Aztecas?!" He barked loudly into my ears in anger, yet my emotions remained unfazed. Scrounging up whatever energy I had left inside, I used that to forcefully knock him onto his back with me on top. Just to buy some time, and perhaps teach him a lesson, I took a hard kick to his balls using my left leg.
He groaned in pain through his tightly clenched teeth as expected, but caught me off guard with how he refused to give up, one strong hand gripping my leg roughly. Down I came, tumbling across the hot terrain again, except this time on my chest harshly.
"Ah!" I exclaimed, followed by a sharp hissing wince of sheer pain drifting through my injured leg. Thanks to him, that caused my ankle to turn florid due to blood rushing into the area, making me feel weary and dizzy. I couldnt find the will to fight back, or even stand up.
Getting back onto his feet after a minute, this psychopathic addict of some sort gripped his gun tight, and all I did was snort bitterly.
"Taking the easy way out in killin a girl? Your real sad." I spat out, a few drops of red blood flinging off my lips.
"Oh, im not gonna kill ya, sugar tits." He seethed out madly but calmly, kicking me with great force in the head. That did it. My vision was getting extremely blurry to the point where I could barely see colors or shapes, a high pitched ring filled my ears.
Last thing I could hear was that bastards sinister chuckle, and Ava's worried howling in the distance before everything went black.