All went wrong.
Sitting on a sidewalk was how Sadie spent most her days, she liked how invisible it made her feel. People would pass behind her, unconcerned about her well being, some would walk in a faster pace fearing she might ask them for change, It was perfect.
It felt especially great on cold autumn days, with the pavement just the perfect temperature to chill her rear. The nippy winds gave her a rush of goosebumps as she was pouring the grinded hemp mixture into her drink. A few sips and she started feeling that her chronic pain was subsiding, the dejected filter she's come to see her life through has cleared up as the THC stimulated her neurons to cause her tingles.
"All I see is beauty," she mused as she observed a turned man zipping up after he finished peeing on the graffitied brick wall.
"Ok that's enough socializing for the day." She put her hands on her knees and pushed herself up and passed by the wall where the man marked his territory. Her favorite graffiti was among the splattered art, which soured her mood. It was the painting of a bear greatly hugging a sloth until its starry eyes popped out of their sockets, which reminded her of Cynthia and consequently, of her mission.
"I have a few more minutes to waste." Remarked Sadie as she looked at her toy watch, then her eyes went back to the graffiti, the tagging beneath the work spelled the "RubyCunt". It was the name of an anonymous artist famous underground because his graffitis supposedly contained foretokens of events to come, but she wasn't sure what that one could be. So many men targetted the sloth's face as their pissoir that some of the colors have started to fade away.
"Dirty dogs, It should be considered an act of vandalism to deface such a piece," she thought, and that gave her an idea. She decided to immortalise the painting when she returned home through her secret talent. But she had to call the firemen first. What should she say? There was no emergency to call for. As she was looking around her trying to identify an emergency, a van pulled up and three masked assailants jumped out of the back of the van and ran inside a bank. "That seems to be an emergency, but firemen would be of no use in this situation." She pondered.
The repetition of "firemen" gave her a hint, "Firemen, fireman...fire, just light a fire silly!" she exclaimed to herself while slapping her front because of the obviousness.
She went ahead and held a light to the van's filler cap, it didn't do much more than heat the steel. So she tried her luck with the wheels. It took a couple of minutes, but she managed to ignite one of the tires with her persistence. The driver recognised the smell of burning rubber, and stepping out of the van, he yelled "the truck's on fire, abort!"
"Don't worry, I'm on it." Sadie answered, and she sauntered towards a red phone booth at the end of the block. She picked up the handset, her smoothie blocking the use of her left hand. So she made use of her shoulder instead to stick the handset inbetween her cheek and a shrug, which freed an arm to dial up the department's number.
+1 717-999-2000, a kid sounding voice answered. "Ruffus?" Inquired Sadie, he didn't sound rough at all, was it bring your kid to work day or did the chief of the fire department have a particularily childlike voice.
"No, wrong number." The kid told her through the line before he closed over the phone. She needed to remember the right one before the entire neighorhood went up in flames.
She remembered that the seven in the fourth position was the wrong digit, so she tried replacing it with another. She tried all nine variations, and on the last dial, a thick voice responded.
You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.
"Sinclair Fire department, what is the nature of your emergency?"
"Rufuss is it? I burned a van."
"Have you been involved in a car accident Mam, are you hurt?"
"Yes, it was accidental, the location is just opposite of Sanders bank. Hurry please."
That'll do, she closed before hearing his answer. Then dialed to inform Caroline that the plan is in motion. Sadie mildly complained that she was put in a hot situation, Caroline became confused, asking her what's so complicated at making one call at a specific timing, so Sadie told her how she couldn't find an emergency and how first she had to start a fire and...
"You did what?!" The voice on the other line growled, Caroline was fuming. She started yelling that all Sadie had to do was lie, that she didn't need to burn everything, that she's an I.D.I.O.T. (Intellectually Deficient, Indolent, Omissive Twat) Sadie hung up enraged, her efforts were never appreciated.
She decided to head back home, still not noticing the figure that was following her since the past four blocks. On her way back, a considerable scrimmage caught her attention, some security guards were jostling on the ground with the robbers that lost their means of escape because of the fire she set, every good deed has its victim.
As she was crossing the bridge, a police car zapped near her, sirens blazing, sending a rippling wave her way. She got fully showered by the splash, she raised her arms, cussing at the racing vehicule, then lowered it when she remembered that she was in possession of cannabis according to the law. She decided that she'd rather keep her arms lowered than up and surrounded by cops.
She's always tried to be on her best behavior while cops were around, she didn't want to deal with the headache. She was a strong girl, but even she didn't think she can handle being locked in a cell, no matter how similar it may be to her current decrepit household, at least she had "freedom".
"I shouldn't have shaken my drink at them." She thought while flipping her keys, but then another thought intruded. "What are they going to do, taste it? Then I can do a citizen arrest on them for being under the influence while on duty."
She unlocked the door and went inside her house, not bothering to close it shut. Who needs to close his doors when Miss Josephine is guarding them 24/7.
A giant rat lurching on the table welcomed Sadie's arrival. It was big Mac, her pet and roommate. He came in her house one day and she didn't find reason to get rid of him. So now he shares her cheese. She stared around her living room, there weren't much furniture.
The was only a semi-functional tv she got at a discount price from a pawnshop and a couch she hauled to her place when her upstair neighors wanted to get rid of it. A plushie toy was occupying one corner of the room, a needle still in his eye, upon closer inspection, Sadie noticed it was missing an ear. "Big Mac!" She yelled, "If you keep chewing up my stuff, you're going to end up as my next meal."
She wasn't mad because it had sentimental value or anything of the sort, she was pissed because it was the way she was going to feed herself for a week, Sadie had a knack for sewing together odd plush toys, nun Zahye had taught her about the correct sewing techniques, and she used that skill to express herself.
Some kids saw the plushies she made and thought they were kind of cool, so now she became a plush dealer, her masterpiece will be a bear and the sloth. Some will say she has stolen the idea, but the evidence for the existence of her inspiration was slowly fading away on the 18th street.
Miss Josephine saw a strange man entering the building through her spyhole, she saw him pushing the unlocked door that faced hers then enter silently.
Sadie was holding her plush to examine the damage done to his ear, "I can fix this." She encouraged herself. As she was starting to pull out the needle from the bear's eye, a stranger burst in on her, she panicked and shoved the television at him.
Unfazed he still rushed towards Sadie, pinning her to the wall as she struggled. She was too weak to fight him off. Big Mac leaped on the assailant, biting at his ankle, the distraction offered Sadie a chance to pull out her knife from her boot.
Miss Josephine was listening heatedly. The banging on the walls, the long moans, an abrupt groaning. She picked up the phone and called their landlord, informing him that Sadie was working as a prostitute.