Stories From 2011 (Dear Players, What's Mine, Queen Bee)

Excuse Me?: Chapter 1

                “Oh come on Natasha, it’s one $12 necklace. You’ve done worse.” Teila says her dyed black hair whipping in the wind.

                “Exactly, this is below my standards and I’m on hot rocks right now. I can’t.” I protest.

                “Ugh, someone’s gone soft.” Ian says coming out of nowhere like he usually does.

                “I. Have. Not. Gone. Soft.” I reply with a sharp glare.

                But these are hard core delinquents I’m talking to.   

                He smirks, which drives me crazy, and raises his chiseled arms in mock defense.

                Then he looks at me with his smoldering green eyes, “You. Have. Gone. Soft.”he counters.

                I growl. “Fine you idiots.” I say and snatch the pretty sterling heart-shaped necklace from the stand and slip it into my short’s pocket.

                We are currently at a state fair; you know the ones with all the little shops and shacks everywhere. The air is stuffy and it’s humid like it normally is in the fine continent of Australia. The heat hangs in the air in a suffocating manner.

                “Now was that so hard.” Teila asks her azure eyes looking straight into my deep chocolate brown ones.

                “No.” I spit out even though it’s a lie. I care too much for this to not be hard. And no I don’t care about what happens to me, but I do care about how this hurts my Aunt Tess. I sigh letting go of my hard exterior for a split second, but no more than that.

                Then in the distance I hear a little boy say, “She did it, she took the necklace.”

                I turn around to see a boy with curly dirty blonde hair and sapphire eyes pointing at me with a smirk on his lips. And people wonder why I hate little kids?

                When the officer the little boy is talking with looks up and meets my eyes I know I should start running so I do. I run my arms pumping hard at my sides. I smack into a few people and topple them over, but what do I care? I don’t.

                I’m still running when I see there’s no escape. In front of me is a burger cart and the sides are blocked off with other little stores. I turn back to see the officer getting closer to me. He too sees the cart in my way and smirks. Let me tell you something about me. When people smirk in a way that underestimates me it drives me to the edge.

                So instead of giving in like I should I run faster. My breath is coming out in short rasps now, but that does’t stop me. When I get right in front of the burger cart I jump up and grab the top of the cart and slide the rest of my body through it. I land on my feet on the other side actually quite surprised I didn’t burn my back side. One inch lower and I would have.

                Then I wait.  I mean what is the use of running anymore? The officer had seen my face and everyone knew who I was. I would just get a call home later and be escorted downtown anyways. So now you may be thinking why did I run in the first place? That’s easy; pride and class. Anyone can get caught, but it’s different when the officers can’t look at you with a triumphant look on their faces; when they can’t look at you like they are better, superior. They know after all that it’s nothing they did that got me captured.