Flare

Chapter 1.1

This chapter is dedicated to LinkinPark124 because she is the most awesome bff anyone could ever have! Plus she is an amazing writer!! :) Don't forget to check out her stories when you are done. :D

Oh! There are pictures of Flare with straight hair and curly hair, hope you enjoy it. :) So take a look at it. It is right over there ---------------------------------------------------->

Enjoy the story!

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    My heart pounded as the thrill of theft led my feet through a lush, green Scottish meadow. The cool spring breeze brushed the long grass against my bare ankles. And lifted my long, blazing, flame colored hair just above my lower back. In my left hand I held a shining, red apple, the reward of my devilish deed. I approched the old, rusty, chain-link fence that seperated me from my destination. Then I swiftly, and effortlesly, threw my body over it.

     I landed and, feeling a stab of pain, looked at my right hand. There I saw a deep cut that had embeded itsself into her palm. I grinded my teeth, balled my right hand, and resumed my retreat. At first, I ran. When I thought that I had gone far enough, I slowed my pace down to a walk. In the distance I could see the old, abandoned shack. At least, that is what the citizens of Mayfeild, Scottland thought of it as. To me, it was home.

     Thinking I was safe, I raised the apple to my mouth and sunk my teeth into the skin of the fruit. I savored the taste and relished the thought of food, wishing I could somehow obtain more. I was just about to take another bite when a rough voice called.

     "You've gotten yourself into a wee bit of trouble, didn't you lass?"

     I turned around to face the middle-aged man. His dark red hair slowly receding under his police cap, and his bright emerald eyes danced with eternal youth.

     "Hello Officer Mowery," I said as Officer Mower frowned. "What? No 'Hi Flare'? No 'how's you day been'?"

     "Don't be smart with me."

     "It was just a simple question," I muttered.

     "Ahh, Flare, what are we to do with you?"

     "What do you mean?"

     "I mean you can't keep doin' this."

     "Doin' what?" I asked through a bite of apple.

     "Stealin'! You need to be in a proper home where you can be cared for!"

     "I can take care of myself!"

     "Not legally," he pointed to the half eaten apple. His eyes stopped when he saw the sticky, red liquid dripping from my hand.

     "What's that in your hand?"

     "Wow! I knew you were old, but I didn't know you were blind!" I laughed, "It's an apple!"

     "Not that hand! The other one!"

     Until then I had forgotten about the cut that I had gotten when I carlessly threw myself over the fence.

     "Oh, that? It's just a little scratch."

     Officer Mowery frowned at me, "Oh. Well if it is just a wee scratch, then you wouldn't mind if I took a look at it?"

     "I don't think that's such a good idea," I said taking a step back.

     He quickly grabbed my wrist, "Don't be a brat now, let me look!"

     He pried my fingers up, and his eyes widened in astonishment. In my palm, there was a cut that was about a centimeter deep.