Post by NORMA JEAN on Mar 23, 2009 21:44:03 GMT -5
THE DREAMS IN WHICH I'M DYING
ARE THE BEST I'VE EVER HAD
[/FONT][/COLOR][/RIGHT]Running. That was all she was doing. Sort of. The lean, thin yet petite nineteen year old easily weaved through the wreckage of the poverty striken edges of the city as they followed. They seemed to be having trouble keeping up and semed pretty pissed that she knocked one of them out. Not great, but hey, she needed the medicine and the only place to find it was deep in the city, in their most prestigious hospital. She knew exactly what to look for and had easily found it. Unlike most of the Resistance, which was underground, Norma tended to stay above ground, for reasons unknown to the others. Maybe she was just afraid the ground would cave in on her..Yeah...That and the fact that she is not much of a people person. Anyone could tell you that much.
The gal wore tiny black shorts, some old school chuck taylor high tops, and a loose white tee that had the collar cut off so it slipped off one of her bare shoulders, the zebra straps of her bra visible. The shirt was an old tourist shirt from New York City, before it was uploaded, and it reached just about at her mid thigh so it slightly passed her shorts. er hair was up in a messy yet stylish bun, strands fallng out around her face from her running. Rings were on her slender fingers, the nails painted a deep blue, and a calm, cool, collected look was on her attractive and young face as the two guys followed her, trying their hardest to keep up and with barely any success.
Her long legs helped her move quickly the faded gray back pack on her back moving with her sudden movements. When one of them got close enough, she put her hand on the floor to do a hand stand, instead flipping upwards and catching the guy under his jaw so a loud crack was heard and when both feet hit the ground, she swept one across the ground, to knock his feet out from under him. He fell with a loud thud, making the other come after her at an even quicker pace.
She remained in her spot and smirked, the cold expression enetering her features as she easily reached her arm back as if ready to pull out an arrow, and pulled out a gun instead with a silencer on it. Luckily he was still far enough that as she aimed and fired, she managed to snag him square between the eyes.
They were getting too easy to defeat. The challenges weren't enough anymore. She brushed her legs up, already feeling the bruise that was forming on her cal and ankles. She was relapsing. She already knew she was. Why? She had a fever three weeks ago along with fatigue-and she had enough food. She was a vegetarian, lived all the way out in the country side of Russia, so she grew her own crops. It wasn;t like she had to go buy it or get any from the Resistance. She had everything she needed...
Until she relapsed on the ALL. It sucked, knowing she would have to go underground probably, the latest, by next week to go get a bone marrow transplant...if she could...or at least a blood transfusion-unless she wanted to welcome death anytime soon. Rolling her abyss blue eyes, she readjusted the bag hat was draped over one shoulder and continued on her merry way as if nothing happened. And when the other guy she kicked got up again. She simply glanced over her shoulder, aimed, and got him right in the neck-exactly in the jugular. No point in getting the face. She got the other one there before.
