Author: This will be a short story for sure, unless it gets complicated and I have to drag it out.

"I'm the one that's got to die when it's time for me to die, so let me live my life the way I want to."
― Jimi Hendrix, Jimi Hendrix - Axis: Bold as Love

PROLOUGE

As she walked through the shadows she felt her heart beat accelerate, the exciting tang of fear filled her mouth. She allowed her senses to spread, the drunken man in the corner barely noticed her. The wind pushed against her cloak, the moon hid behind the grey clouds above. Her heels clicked against the pavement, turning onto the main street she ran threw her list of possible mistakes she could have made while she had been cleaning the death scene not that anyone would miss a whore. Walking towards the only lit street lamp she waited as a carriage pulled in front of her, when a velvet covered hand reached out and waited for her to lay a green box into it, once done the hand threw her a bag heavy with gold coins. Nodding her head she turned from the carriage and continued to disappear into the darken streets of St. Giles. The carriage seemed to wait before a tall figure emerged and with an astonishing speed the figure immediately followed the woman.

2011

Bridgette awoke with a start when she looked over her alarm glowed fiendishly in her darken room. She grimaced at it before rising from her bed and turned it off; she rubbed her face and looked in the mirror. Her brown eyes assessed the deep tanned colored skin and nearly red full lips. She rubbed her face again and walked into the bathroom to prepare for the day ahead. Once done she dressed and ran downstairs only to nearly get hit by the door her sister had just thrown open on her way in, wincing she rubbed her head. "Hey, watch it!" Her sister gave a smirk, "So the beast of slumber has awoken, mom wants to see you. "

Bridgette just watch her sister walk back out before muttering, something along the lines of beating and spoiled children. She entered the kitchen only to be met by the smell of coffee and freshly baked croissants. "Oh, bridge you're awake, I've been waiting." Bridge poured herself coffee before leaning a hip against the counter, "mm, for what?" Her mother narrowed her eyes on her hip but then continued with talking.

"I've just received a letter from your aunt heather, you know the one who lives in Indiana but works in London. " Bridgette nodded even though she had eluded her mother's attempts of finding her a "new beginning" she was sure this would be another attempt. At the age of 22 she somehow found herself lost, with no Idea as to how to proceed. "Well she said that the curator for the museum in England you know…the famous one, anyway is looking for some interns and she was able to hold a spot just for you and I told her that you would be on your way within a day."

Bridgitte merely stared in shock at her mother, sure she had been a type a loose screw sense she graduated with a 1.7 GPA. She had at least made up for it by getting a job and doing community college until she had been accepted into her local university APSU.

"Mom, how could you….the least I expected was some type of warning…" Her mother who had seemed calm turned around abruptly and wise eye seemed filled with frustration. "Ever since the incident you have not been yourself…""But. "Her mother raised her hand and cut her off," You mope and stare out the window, you are pretty much dead to everything you loved history, books, your sisters. Your friends have kept calling and I've used every excuse I can think of, and the worst part is you're not talking to me or sharing this burden with anyone."

Bridgitte felt a stab of guilt when she saw the tears in her mother's brown eyes, after observing her mother she also noticed the bagging and that her mother hands were clenched. Her dark skin seemed ashen underneath, Bridgitte knew that her selfish depression could go on no longer but the ability to go on living after everything that had happened, hadn't felt like an option. Luckily her sisters where both still outside shoveling the snow. Bridgette walked over to her mother and grabbed her hand. "Your right, I need a break from good old Clarksville, and the only way to get it will be to spend it with crazy Aunt Heather." Her mother laughed and playfully slapped her before turning back to the boiling stew.

Author: Thanks for reading and please review!