Red Duct Tape (ON HOLD)

Chapter 1-First Day

I was excited to see as much feedback as I did only on the first day! This story is so fun writing! Here is the first chapter of this enticing mystery! For the next upload, I ask for 10 VOTES! After we reach ten, I will post chapter 2! Vote, comment and share my loves!

I dedicate this chapter to my bestest friend MichelAllynBloch. She has a wonderful story called Whatever Happend to The Old Michelle! After you vote for this chapter ;) I would LOVE if you would read her story and vote for it too!! 

I have exciting news! I qualified for the state competition of Power of The Pen (a writing competition my school is involved in)! I was number 19 out of the top 63 writers! Thumbs up for that!

FIRST ONE TO LEAVE A COMMENT (A NICE COMENT) GETS THE NEXT CHAPTER DEDICATED TO THEM!

Chapter 1

First Day

The smell of fresh paint fills the small one bedroom apartment that was newly rented. A sad blue color covers the memories of past residents and leaves a new clean palate for new ones to be made.

Looking up at her artistic handy work, Calla Green sees this new coat of paint not as a health hazard, but as a sign of new beginnings. She was miles and miles away from her family and could never have felt so independent. Not that she wouldn’t miss her mother and brothers in the long run, but a twenty-two year old girl wasn’t meant to be cooped up at home when she could be doing so much more with her life. When the opportunity finally arose, she simply could not deny it. It had always been her dream to travel to Washington and work alongside the best of forensic scientists. When she got the letter of acceptance for her internship with the FBI, she was more than ecstatic. She was, for lack of a better word, pumped. Sure, the goodbyes were hard, but she had her future life to look forward to. Calla had a broad mind and a lot of time on her hands—not to mention the credentials to aspire in this sort of career. She had graduated top of her class at Alabama University in Birmingham with all honors and a Master’s degree in Forensic Science— Pathology to be specific. Calla had a love for cause of death. Though her family would sometimes make fun of her for it, she ignored them because it’s what truly interested her.

She checks her watch to find herself running a bit off schedule. She was to report at seven thirty sharp and it was already seven. Running quickly down the hallway, she searches for her ballet flats. They were suede and white, which would go nicely with her black skinnies and cashmere sweater. The temperature change would take a bit of adjusting to, seeing she has lived in Alabama all her life. Her mother so kindly refurbished her wardrobe for her, so she didn’t freeze to death.

She took a daring step outside her apartment building to find the September temperature mildly pleasing. She didn’t need her parka after all.

She swiftly walked across the street and into town. She praises the Lord that she purchased an apartment close to work. As soon as she walked onto 4th street, she saw what would be the beginning of a new era for her. There, before her hazel eyes, was the main office for the FBI. Giddy with excitement, she hastens her pace until she reaches the front. Men and women in business suits push past her absentmindedly; talking rapidly away on their cell phones. The young girl takes her first breath of adulthood. It was oddly satisfying. A humongous deep breath later, she composes herself and opens the door. To her astonishment, it was even grander than she had imagined. All marble floors and high ceilings, with a grand lobby and information desk. The woman, who sat properly in her chair, with classes resting on her prominent nose, was typing away rapidly. Calla believed this was the woman she should talk to. Squaring her shoulders, she walks slowly to the woman. The woman continues typing, not making eye contact with Calla.