Please leave a review.
Also, if your looking for a Death Sentence fic to read, I suggest you head over to wowoowooo page. She has got the start of two quite promising DS fics, but hasn't updated in forever. I think you should go read and review so that she updates soon. Yes? :D I know, what a cheap plug.
Hope you enjoy.
Angie sprawled on her stained ruined couch, her matted dark hair fanned beneath her and her cigarette ash fell into it the greasy mass carelessly.
Tears rolled down her face as she sucked sharply on her cigarette, her cheap mascara burned her eyes and left big black splodges down her greasy cruel face. Years ago someone, Angie couldn't even remember who anymore but she was pretty sure it was a customer, had sliced Ange's face so severely it left a angry repulsive scar up the right side of her face. It made her permanently look like she was grimacing.
The room smelt like stale smoke ad sweat, but Angie didn't notice that anymore, she had spent too long here surviving. The last thing she cared about, or any of her customers cared about was the smell.
Her hands shook defiantly as she stubbed her cigarette out on a plate of rotting food that had been left on her cluttered coffee table for days.
She jumped suddenly as three loud bang's crashed into her front. She stood automatically, though she had to steady herself to stop herself from tumbling down on to the dirty tiles that was her floor.
Quickly she staggered over to the door, grabbing things for support as she did, she checked her peep hole before yanking the door open and plastering a grotesque smile across her face.
Billy Darley stepped into the filthy apartment, the stench hit him as he went further inside, but he tried to ignore it as he stood by the old window that was cracked open an inch.
Angie stumbled over to Billy, her eyes intent on him. She stared up at him her hands placed on his face. "My boy, my little Billy boy, all grown up." Billy removed his mothers dirty hands from his face; she staggered back over to the couch.
"What ya want?" Billy demanded, he didn't take to fucking kindly to being called by his crack-whore of a mother in the middle of his shift begging him to come round to her filthy apartment.
Her bright blue eyes stared up at him, "my Billy so grown up. So strong," she murmured to herself. Billy's jaw tightened, he was beginning to lose his patience. "That fucker didn't pay me," she announced loudly with a wave of her hand, before settling on making a big joint.
"I fuckin' told him, told him who my boy was but didn't he fuckin' pay up. No. So I need you to go and stick him." Billy silently glared down at her. "Come on Billy, for ya old ma yeah? I fuckin' gave him a service and he didn't fuckin' pay up the prick." She sparked the spliff up inhaling it deeply before offering it to her son, he took it and toked on it deeply before handing it back. "He was into some weird fuckin' shit to, he's lucky I let him put his rancid dick anywhere near my-" Billy dived over to her unrepentantly, she jumped nervously as he grabbed her two ruined cheeks menacingly. He held them tight, wanting to hurt her, and forced her to stare into his crazy fearless eyes.
"Ya disgust me," Billy murmured in her face, before letting go and shoving her down roughly on the couch. He spat down on her bare legs before heading for the door.
"His names Pete, he works down at that diner just off the express way," she called after her son as he opened her front door.
Billy sauntered out of the apartment angrily, his blood boiling, the moment he yanked his mothers front door closed he ripped his cell out of his pocket.
"Bodie, I got a fuckin' job for ya."
Please review