Idea popped in my mind. It's my first fanfic btw. Flames will be ignored because I don't give a damn.
Also, keep in mind I'm only 14 and I'm trying to write a pretty adequate story with a pretty okay plot line and stuff that has adult themes in it. So shove off if you wanna complain about something stupid. I'm only 14 and some stuff like sex I can't write.
IMPORTANT: I put this as an M rating because it has some suggestive themes to sex and it has lots of language. BUT THERE WILL NOT BE SEX. Personally, although sex signifies important themes and wraps stuff up together in stories, I think it takes away a lot of the meaning and feeling to a story. Things like kisses and hugs and stuff add a lot more emotion. Hopefully you understand what I'm trying to say. It's also just my opinion. Besides, like I said, stuff like sex, I can't write. I'm not comfortable.
Please please review. I look forward to constructive ones. If I messed something up, tell me and I'll fix.
The burning liquid slid down my throat. I slapped a hand over my mouth and gave an audible gulp. My throat felt raw and it wasn't even a very strong brand of tequila.
"Hey! Yo, can you give me another shot of tequila? Strongest one you've got this time."
The bartender wiping up a wet glass nodded and grabbed a bottle off the shelf. He poured some of the strong liquid into a small shot glass and slid it to me.
"Rough day?"
I shrugged, "Kinda. Don't ask though, I don't wanna talk about it."
He shrugged, "Whatever you say." He walked away to do another one of his jobs' duties. Instead of drinking the entire thing, I took a small sip and looked around the bar room. Big Shots was playing in the TV and a group of junkies were playing cards in a corner.
I sighed and looked at my half-filled shot glass glumly, a sad expression taking over my face. Jet was probably raging where I was, but I didn't care. The Bebop had become too repressive with just Jet and I on it. I needed to leave. Memories of my time on it with Jet, Ed, and...
Spike. I clenched my hands. The fucking bastard. The fucking bastard who left us. The stupid lunkhead. The dumb guy with ridiculous damn green afro hair. I hated him with all my guts. Fuck him for leaving us! Fuck him, fuck him!
My face didn't show any of the volcano I was underneath. Instead of shrieking out at the world, I drank the rest of my alcohol slowly and prepared to get up. I'd find a casino or something and gamble the money I had that was probably less than enough for a face spa. I felt a hand on my thigh. I pursed my lips and looked to the side. A man with rugged handsomeness leered at me with a smirk.
"Baby," Hot, alcohol mangled breath blew on my face. He crooned, "Come on, I'm an old guy who had a bad, bad day. You understand don't you? Let's go somewhere private and I promise I'll give you the time of your life. I'll even pay you..."
His fingers lightly danced on the skin near my groin. I growled and without batting an eyelash, grabbed my Glock.
"Get your fucking fingers off me or you'll regret it."
He froze and quickly lifted both his hands up. I stood up and warningly clicked the safety away. He gulped and looked away. I turned and began walking out of the bar. Yeah, that casino sounded nice... the lights and brightness and at this time of night, a lot of people would be there. Maybe I'd pickpocket some rich gu-
"Shit!"
A hand grabbed my arm and knocked my gun away. I spun around and the rugged looking guy's snarling face looked at me. I growled again. "Fuck, just leave me alone!" I punched the guy's face, giving my arm as much power as I could. He staggered back and I looked around for my gun. Where the shit was my Glock?
The guy was starting to advance and the damn gun was nowhere to be found. Shit!
He swung at me and shouted, "You fucking pussy, I'll make sure you regret trying to threaten me!"
I shouted back, "You son of a bitch-bring it on!"
I ducked under the upper-cut and swung my leg at his ankle. He fell and I turned to run when he grabbed my ankle and pulled me down. By now, the entire bar turned into chaos. A small ring formed around me and the guy and whistles ensued at the way my underwear nearly showed when he pulled me down. Meanwhile, the bartender was red, shouting as loud as he could over the phone, probably calling the police or something.
"Fight, fight, fight!"
"Come on man, fuck that little minx!"
I snarled and finally, I spotted the Glock some yards away from me, beyond the crowd of men. Shit, I couldn't reach it.
The hulking piece of shit grabbed both of my arms in one hand. Bruises laced his face, but he kept going at me. He pushed the yellow fabric away from my breasts. "Yeah, this is what I wanted. Come on, you'll enjoy it. I hate women with attitude so just enjoy..."
"Oooh this is getting dirty. Fuck her, fuck that little bitch!"
Hot breath clouded over me and I spat at the guy's face and wiggled, trying to get my arms free and his weight off me. "Well this woman's got some attitude so fuck OFF!"
I kicked at his groin and he snatched his hands back and wheezed. "Fuck..."
I got up and ran.
"Fuck! Come back you fucking bitch!"
I didn't dare turn around to get my glock, I'd get it somehow later. I push passed the men and was nearly to the exit when BANG!
BANG!
Pain bloomed on my head. Darkness enfolded on my vision.
The sound echoed in my mind.
BANG!
Bang!
Bang
B..
a..
n..
g...