Agony walked into the old apartment, she peeled off her leather جیکٹ that was sticking to her body from the rain outside. The apartment was a dark gray, the only thing illuminating the stained walls and cracked furniture was the flashes of lightning outside and the soft flicker of candlelight in the driest corner casting an مالٹا, نارنگی glow over a old worn out black and white تصویر of a family. Sighing the red head laid the جیکٹ down on the back of a half broken chair, and laid down on the کیڑے, کیڑا eaten couch.
“Home sweet home,” She whispered and looked around the apartment, what was there was either broken or....broken. Even the window was broken and the shards of glass littered the floor, glowing مالٹا, نارنگی like coals as they reflected the light from the few hazy candles. Sara closed her eyes and listened to the rain ping agents the plastic لپیٹ, لفاف کریں covered window. She rather live in this old worn out apartment than lively Mount Justice. Sara winced at the thought of living there, for the heroes it was heaven, for her it might as well be stepping into hell. There was so much pain, every time she was in there she felt like her skull was being bashed in with a sledge hammer. She sighed and closed her eyes, letting fatigue overcome her, she quickly fell into dreams...that was her first mistake.
“GET OUT OF MY SIGHT آپ LITTLE *&^%^&*# &$%^$!!” A man’s voice barked, and suddenly a young girl got literally thrown out of a room. The red haired girl slammed against the old wall, cracking the plaster and caused bits of drywall to fall and leave a fine layer of white dust on her fair skin, only making her bloody arms مزید vivid. The girl blinked the tears out of her eyes, trying to ignore the sharp pain in her arms. The girl picked herself up, and walked slowly to the bathroom, to hear a strangled cry. The girl burst into the room, the old door came crashing down.
“Miss Annabelle!” Sara cried out and ran to the woman. The lady was in her early thirties and was sobbing and was soaked in blood. The blonde woman looked at the young girl, then as if suddenly realized how she must look like tho the seven سال old.
“I-I’m a m-m-onster.....you shouldn’t ha-have c-come in...” The lady کہا and put the bloody razor down, after it had made its long trek through Annabell's skin. Annabelle looked at the girl, and how she was almost as equally as damaged, but not self-inflicted. Both females had long red gashes down their arms, but Sara’s went deeper and went to her shoulder and fingers instead of her forearms. The woman looked at the girl again, long and sorrowful.
“I’ve hurt you....in many ways....I don’t deserve to live.....I’m leaving,” Annabelle کہا softly, tears sprung to Sara’s eyes.
“No! آپ didn't hurt me! Aldair did! Stay! یا he’ll be worse!” Sara cried out. Annabelle looked at Sara’s old burns, they were old and faded but the burns were still there, speckled across her arms and legs. Sara saw what she was looking at.
“That wasn't your fault! آپ were.....” Sara struggled to manage the words out. The woman stared at Sara.
“Dunk? High? Both?” She croaked “I’ve hurt you, it’s my fault! So I-I’m leaving, you’ll be safe,” Annabelle کہا hoarsely. Sara gave her a pleading look.
“At least let me come with you!” She cried out, if the lady didn't stay, she wanted no part here. Annabelle gave Sara a look as well filled of pain, sorrow, regret, and pity.
“Where I’m going, آپ might not want to follow,” Annabelle کہا and in one movement as fast as lighting, she snached the razor from the sink basin and slid it across her own neck.
“NO!” Sara screeched and made a wild leap as if there was a chance to save the blonde haired woman. A large burly man stumbled into the room, بیئر and cigar in hand, his face was blotchy red and his eyes were small. He gaped at the girl and the dead body, then his face turned into a drunken rage. He shook his finger at the girl,, the bottle of بیئر still in his hand and boomed at the girl.
“YOU! آپ DID THIS!” He shriked at the girl, who was still crying but looked at the man.
“YOU’RE GOING TO PAY FOR THIS آپ LITTLE &*^%^!!” The man bashed the end of the bottle on the edge of the sink, the bottom half fragmenting and leaving a sharp fragmented end. The man ran at the girl, screaming like a demon.
“AAAAAAAHHHHHHH!” Sara screamed and launched herself up from her couch. She sat up wide eyed and gasping for breath. She was drenched in cold sweat and rain water from the now other broken window. She put her head in her hands, and sat there shivering and letting her tears trail down her arms like her blood did that day. Sara stood tears still streaming down her face, she plucked her جیکٹ up from the chair and walked out side. She only had to walk down one ally to find herself surrounded. Ten gang members armed with guns, baseball bats, and knives. Agony’s eyes glowed orange. Suddenly Agony’s switchblade was out, and only a few سیکنڈ later covered in blood. The members were on the ground, alive, but barely. She flicked the چھری and the heavy liquid came off. She heard a motorcycle engine in the distance as مزید car engines followed.
Sara wasn't Sara anymore but Agony, the سٹریٹ, گلی fighter, drag racer, چھری wilder, gun master.
But no hero
[b] Agony's Past!! Ha, ya see what I did there?.......cuz ya know her pas is sad...and her name is Agony........alright I'm done. The ending is a fail of me tiring to be dramatic -.-'. My Cell Black Tango story will be up soon....probably. I use periods alot, that's wat I realize.........................................dot..................more dots...................................dot.....dot........Ok noooow I'm done
(Why yes, I DID just kill the mood, thank آپ for noticing)