celestialdragon
his little one
- Joined
- May 7, 2013
- Posts
- 25,323
Gwyneth Clark was speeding down the highway, trying to get out of Texas as fast as she could. It was dangerous for her to come home, it really was. Too many people knew her, and that wasn't a good idea for a fugitive.
She couldn't believe how deep of a hole she dug herself in the past five years. Petty theft, fraud, identity theft, murder, drug possession. . . Yeah, she was in deep.
Really, everything went to shit once her abusive ex fiance from college took it too far. She had done it to survive, originally, and now, she was intoxicated by doing crime. She loved it. It gave her power, control, something she rarely had in her rather young life.
She heard sirens, and looked up into her rearview mirror to see a cop car chasing her down. Swearing, she obliged, taking her time to do so. Once she was in park, she pulled out a driver's license and insurance, under one of her many aliases, and donned a thick scarf and a black haired wig.
"Hello officer, can I help you?" she asked, adopting a thick Southeastern accent. She didn't look up at the cop at her window.
If the cop searched her car and person, they would find the guns she's stolen; the drugs she's been selling for extra cash; the knife she used in the murder; and all of her different aliases. She would go down before anything even happen.
She couldn't believe how deep of a hole she dug herself in the past five years. Petty theft, fraud, identity theft, murder, drug possession. . . Yeah, she was in deep.
Really, everything went to shit once her abusive ex fiance from college took it too far. She had done it to survive, originally, and now, she was intoxicated by doing crime. She loved it. It gave her power, control, something she rarely had in her rather young life.
She heard sirens, and looked up into her rearview mirror to see a cop car chasing her down. Swearing, she obliged, taking her time to do so. Once she was in park, she pulled out a driver's license and insurance, under one of her many aliases, and donned a thick scarf and a black haired wig.
"Hello officer, can I help you?" she asked, adopting a thick Southeastern accent. She didn't look up at the cop at her window.
If the cop searched her car and person, they would find the guns she's stolen; the drugs she's been selling for extra cash; the knife she used in the murder; and all of her different aliases. She would go down before anything even happen.
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