Spiritus Sancti

by AcaciaDawn105

A horrible accident, flashing lights, screeching of metal on metal, the acrid smoke that burned her lungs. The only remaining proof of that terrible day is walking through the streets of Boston. A regular at a rather nice Irish pub, she gets sucked into a whirlwind of mobs and vigilanties. And Frankie's none too happy about it all. :)

Spiritus Sancti~ Prologue

My mother never understood me, the way I thought, and the way I acted. Quite honestly, despite my upbringing, she always thought I was a Devil child. It wasn't that I was bad, good Lord, no. We just…never saw eye to eye. I wasn't as devout as she was. My father understood, and I could always go to him, no matter what. Even when I lost my virginity to the guy I thought was the love of my life, it was my da I went to. Oh, he read me the riot act, but promised not to tell my ma, as long as I didn't end up pregnant. Of course, Ma didn't think the way I did. Being the only girl was a pain in a Catholic family. I was supposed to be perfect. My hair was to done up right every day, make-up, and prep-type outfits: white button-down, nice blouse, skirt pressed and pleated, the works.

That wasn't me. I hated those outfits she would take me shopping for. I would have rather stayed holed up in my room with my grungy cargos, rock-band t-shirts, and combat boots. Da had bought me a large stario system that was constantly blasting everything from Queen to Franz Schubert, Emenim to Celtic Woman. I suppose I had taken more from Da's mother, in all her Scottish glory. Ma's family was Irish Catholic, through and through. Da, on the other hand…well, let's just say that Gammy liked the darker skinned Natives. Her pa had brought his pregnant wife to the New World, making their firey little girl a first generation American. He wasn't too happy when he found out there was a Mohican boy courting his daughter.

But, I digress.