October 2013
The adrenaline pumped through my veins as I approached inconspicuously to my next target. She awaited unknowingly, and I could further see as she gripped the leather strap accordingly to her subconscious. That would be good retail on Amazon. I pulled out my iPod and used the reflection to view the object. It had no scratches, stains, or setbacks. I looked up through my hood and saw no police or police cars in sight. I then again regarded my victim and confirmed. She had brand-name boots and trademark clothes. Her aura almost screamed rich snob. Her friend with electric blue eyes had the same disposition. She has silver sterling earrings as well as what seemed as a gold plated necklace. She tapped on her phone, showing it to my soon-to-be-victim. They laughed and Blue Eyes mimicked a picture, puffing her cheeks out and spreading her arms out as if she was… on a diving board.
My mind clicked, realizing they were looking at pictures. If my victim did the same, I had an open shot. I waited accordingly, playing the gimmick of using my phone. A few seconds later, she put her arms out and wobbled them, mimicking the picture they viewed. I took my move and ran from my stance, grabbing her purse off of her shoulder. The fake gold chain rattled in my hand as I ran down the street, my mind not wondering why the girls weren't calling for help or chasing after-
My thoughts cut off as an electric shock ran up the arm that held the purse. It then crawled up onto my whole body. I fell to the littered pavement, holding my arm. Gucci heels clicked behind me, growing closer and closer as the girls approached, laughing. I struggled to get up, but the electric shock remained rattling in my body, causing me to fall back down. My "victim" snatched her purse from the pavement, and her friend dug her heel into my spine as she called me an "Asshole criminal". She pulled my arms back behind my head and I felt metal cuff my wrists together.
"Petty theft for a petty thief." Blue Eyes said. She read me my rights as she tugged me up. "By the way, thanks for helping me." She said to her younger friend, who seemed about nineteen or so.
"Anytime!" My victim laughed and pulled a police radio from her purse. She hit a button on the side as the transmissions were cut off momentarily as she said, "Alpha alpha, Thalia got em',"
Her finger left the button as the reply said, "Great but you don't have to say 'Alpha alpha.'"
My victim laughed as Blue Eyes, or who they call Thalia, tugged me into a nearby police car hidden in an alley way. Damn it. "It just sounds cooler!"
Six Hours Later
After I was released with yet another warning and fine, I stormed into my small house wedged between two abandoned corporate buildings. Once I walked in, I threw the car keys to my left, where a shelf stocked with empty booze bottles lay. Just beyond that shelf was a small and poorly made couch imported from China that I found at the dump. It was still in the crate when I found it. Lucky me. In front of that had the outdated "box TV" perched on a cabinet. I walked over to flip through the VHS tape pile on the dinged up coffee table. I picked upcoming The Little Mermaid, and scratched off the 1.99 sticker left on it from The Salvation Army. I hastily put it in the player where it displayed it poorly. I reclined on the crumb-littered sofa and watched the classic Disney film. It was only five minutes later when I got the satanic phone call. I answered it reluctantly after pausing the movie, pressing the worn down Call button just after six rings.
"Do you have this week's ransom?" The brooding but familiar voice said from the ear piece.
"Not yet." My voice strained, and nervously I asked, "Can I get you double next week?"
The deep auto toned voice replied after a moment's wait, "This one time. And don't forget our deal. I have all eyes on you. I know when you are at the police station and when you are not. Don't mess up next time." The click from the receiving side ended the call. I sighed in relief and bent over, feeling underneath the couch. I felt the cold metal barrel and instantly calmed down. My hand slipped left of the object to find a wad of papers. I grabbed the crinkled mass from the floor and opened it up. I read off options I had until I met the full ransom.
I could continue stealing or give a hand at armed robbery. But I don't have the proper weapons.
I sighed yet again, and turned to my only alternative I found left. I grabbed the phone from the coffee table and dialed the ten digit number. It rang a couple of times until a click signaled it had been picked up.
"Hello?" A voice answered.
"Hey Nico. Got any parties? I need to forget some things." I said, running a hand through my hair.
He chuckled- not evilly, which is a first –and replied, "You say that every week. Tonight's fantastic bash is in the old abandoned Miller factory for some girls' birthday. I hear there's going to be hot chicks and a special surprise. Also pot. Lots and lots of pot."
I thanked him hesitantly and as I began hang up I stopped. "Nico? I need some honest advice here."
"Go for it but I'm no therapist." He said, and I heard some crunching and crinkling, like he was eating potato chips.
"When does it ever get better?"
He paused for a moment and said, "After Bianca died, it seemed like nothing would ever get better. It was only then I realized there was nothing for to get better." A few seconds later the other line cut off.
Dear future reviewers,
What do you think's up with the auto toned voice phone call?
Can you guess who was helping out Thalia? Can you believe she's a cop?
Also, is it surprising Nico can be so deep? And should Nico be his only best friend or should I throw in someone like Grover for support?
Disclaimer for the whole story: I do not own the characters and any relation to anyone outside of this story. This story is fictionalized and does not mean to offend or discriminate anyone if they do feel so that way.
Love your friendly neighborhood Phrontistery