2:15pm (GMT8)
She walked the beige sidewalk, feeling like the steps she took could be heard for miles. The streets were busy as the cold harsh wind whipped. Many walked on the same side walk, happy and content. Cars speeding by, pushing the air through pedestrians' hair and clothing. She held her trench coat close to her, her golden hoop earring swaying near her neck. She could feel the cold material hit her nape every now and then. After a minute or two of walking in the crowds, she spots her father. The coffee shop had outdoor tables filled with many, her father being one of them. She smiles sweetly towards him as their eyes lock, and he waves his other to where he is seated.
She obliges, and pulls the chair out in front of her father. She scoots into the seat, placing her arms onto the table. Her father held a cup of coffee in his hand; It was steaming. He must have just gotten it.
Her father smiles widely at her, "Amelia, honey how are you--"
"I think he's alive." Amelia hated to ruin the atmosphere her father was creating; however, she wanted to just let go off it. Get the words off her chest to him, to hear what he had to say. As soon as the words left her lips, her father's smile disappeared. His eyebrow raises, putting his hand under his chin.
"Who?" He asks questionably, Amelia sighs. She looks down at her own arms on top of the table. Did he not remember who she was addressing, how could he forget? With events like that, she could never forget.
"Dad..You know who in this world I'm talking about." She looks back up at her father, with a serious glare in her eyes. His face was no longer confused, it was a completely different demeanor. He brings his coffee to his lips, taking a large sip. He gently places it back on the table, leaning forward towards his only child.
"You shot him, you saw him go still." His stare locks with hers, Amelia was not phased. Her father seemed very terrifying to others, but to her he was a guide. The sudden cold tone and death-like stare showed to her he took her seriously. Even if he disagreed with what she was saying, at least he didn't think it was some kind of joke.
"How the hell could he have survived three shots to the chest and one to his leg?" Amelia's mind could not even remember how many times she had shot him. Did she really shoot him enough to have killed him? Her father was able to remember the details she had told him those years ago, and yet she could not. The person who did the deed, and she could not clear the fog.
Her mouth turned into a frown, putting both of her hands onto her cheeks.
"I must've been a lousy shot dad, because it may be evident he is alive." Amelia was only eighteen at that moment, the moment it had happened to her. She had only barely known how to shoot a gun let alone where to shoot to kill someone.
Her father seemed to sense her distress, as he leaned forward to grab one of her hands. He pulls it back to him, squeezing it tightly. She looks towards her father,
"Don't say that baby, I think you're just remembering the past." Another squeeze,
"I don't want you to fall back down that rabbit hole again." Amelia sighs, closing her eyes and shaking her head. Her father was right, this type of behavior was putting her back into the place she did not want to return to.
"I left Dallas a voicemail about it..He still hasn't answered me. Being out on a case and all."
"Don't stress yourself too much darling. I assure you even if he is alive, he knows not to mess with you ever again." Her father was right, his words made her shoulder's relax slightly. Yet, the same thoughts continued to eat at her in the back of her mind. The past ate through her.
"Why do you think he lied for so long," She pauses, looking down at her father's and her hand intertwined. She squeezes at his instead, taking in a deep breath.
"And thought I would still be with him.." So much of her life was taken from her, just with one mistake. One action she decided with her heart caused bodies to follow. Even after seven years, she couldn't understand why. Why did she suddenly become a magnet for death?
"Because he thought you were wrapped around his finger, Amelia." Amelia looks up at him, her father seemed to understand it better than she did. He never blamed her for the events in their past either, and she wished he did. She felt guilt for it everyday of her life, even with the lives she saved. They could not make up for the ones she had lost.
"His 'protection' was nothing more than hiding who he truly was." Her father breathes out, closing his eyes for a moment. Amelia could tell the conversation was upsetting him, but she didn't want to just end it here. She hadn't heard her father's emotions in a long time, and she wanted to hear them now.
"Hey honey, I wanted to say I'm sorry." He opens his eyes again, father and daughter stares locked together. He was going to apologize again, as he had done from the very beginning of their journey together.
"For not believing you all those years ago, to start with I thought Luca-" He pauses, looking away from her. She knew the words he was saying pained him, but she stayed silent.
"If I had listened.."
She interrupts him, "It's okay dad, as long as you know it now.. He's a dangerous man."
"Luca didn't deserve what he got from all this.." The image of Luca was all too clear in her memories. She loved him, all too late. By the time she had realized she truly cared for him beyond their friendship, he was killed. Taken out of the world for something he had no part of, caught in the cross fires.
Not a day had gone by where Amelia didn't blame herself, knowing that there was something she could have done before it happened. Before, he was sent to Lucifer for all eternity. Luca wanted to change and yet was seen as nothing but a filthy criminal. He was the only one who tried to change for Amelia. Amelia knew he was kind hearted.
If he had never met her, he would have lived. Every person she met, died because of her. A magnet for death, was all she was.
"Just be safe honey.." Her father's words rang in her ears, as she nodded towards him. With her work, there was no way for her to truly be safe. It wasn't like it mattered to her, as she did not truly care for herself. It was all for others, or nothing at all.
Amelia stands up, and with the swift motion her father follows suit. The young woman quickly wraps her arms around her father's chest. The older man, wrapping his around his only child. There's a silence to the embrace, a comforting one. When Amelia needed comfort the most, her father was always there for her. The warm embrace calmed the stirring thoughts within her head.
It's cut short, and both are heading their separate ways.
Her meeting with her father only lasted for half an hour, and yet the sun was already falling from the view in the sky. Shades of pink, orange, and light purple were almost masked by the dark shade of nightfall. Where things in the shadows lurked, crept out of every little corner.
The boots on her feet crush against the fallen leaves felt from the harsh cold of winter. The rain that had fallen through parts of the day splash against the leather shoes in puddles. Amelia breathes in through her nose, closing her eyes. Steps are natural now, and she does not need to look where she is going. Her ears hear the crunching and movement of the surrounding area around her. Amelia knows this city like it was where she lived all her life, like the back of her hand. The patterns of the streets, the way the strip lights flicker every so often as the pavement was scattered with steps of tourists, of people who lived in the sunny state of California.
Now, the streets were dark. Almost illuminated by the moon's basking gaze, down on the small ant of people; Towards her. The moon was its own being, as if it watched the small ants of citizens go about their daily commutes. In California, she felt alive, driven to her own desires. To help people, to create a safer place for people to live. The world, no matter what age they were in: Was crime ridden. People ran rampant on the streets, taking whatever their hungry hearts desired. Amelia, was never like them. She was selfless, and would do anything for the people who were in danger. Even if her own heart, was ripped from her chest. A life saved, was a life that could grow and prosper. Until the very last day they see the light, and leave the world with swift haste; To whatever was beyond this world.
Calculated steps are the only sound her ears can concentrate on, what her mind seems to trail back to. Not the imminent threat that was trailing behind her within the streets. Never the chance of danger, she was trained for it. Only the rhythm of her steps, how many seconds between each step, and how much space in between. Cautious, calm, and silent.
She stops in her tracks. The crickets chirp, a car brushes by. Her breathing is calm, heart beating in her chest at a slowed pace. The chill of the cold winter air hits the back of her neck, the hairs stick up.
"Ameliaaa." A long whisper of her name brisks the rim of her ear, the instant movement of her hand to her gun. Held within her belt, it clicks off of its hold. Amelia holds herself in place, not speaking a word to the person who had spoken to her. Yet, there was no response once more. Slowly, she clicks the gun back into its original clip. Rubbing her hand on her forehead.
It was her, it was starting. The voice, the taunting rasp of a crooked man.
Her eyes flutter shut, black lashes sweeping over tan eyelids. A hand carefully placing itself onto her chest, feeling her own heart.
Her heart beat had fastened, frightening herself.
"You can't run forever, didn't I tell you?" The voice, close to her ear once more. The fading feeling of air fanning on her skin. Amelia's throat holds her breath, not being able to move. Weight presses against her chest, around her thin neck. As if another person was wrapping their arms around her. A snake, with the little mouse within its clutches. Unable to escape, unable to scream or wail. Before the life is squeezed out of it, and it is left to be devoured.
Then, there is silence once more. Amelia doesn't dare to move a muscle, nor intimate the person who was around her. If there was a person, with their hands around her neck; She would have felt the movement. The weight of their body pressing against her back, analyzing the best point to grip their arm and pull them down. There was no weight, no breathing other than the voice that rasped her name.
"I'll always find you."
It was her, it was all in her head.
The voice morphed into something she truly feared the most. A man who could cause her to cower at her feet, lose all her composure. The shell she had built up for so long, in an instant would crumble from the sight of him. Perhaps she was being ridiculous, she knew what she had done to him. Amelia had killed him where he laid, given him what he had deserved.
Her aim wasn't the best back then.
With a large sigh, Amelia's eyes open. The emerald hues that glistened in the dim light of the streets. Moving her hand from her chest, staring straight ahead at the empty street. There's no register of fear on her face, yet her heart continued to pound. Even the mere thought of him, could cause her entire body to react. After 5 years, she had built up the resistance for feelings. The feelings of fear, despair, and weakness. Those years of blood would happen, no longer.
"Shut up." Amelia groans, beginning her calculated steps once more.
No one: no man, woman, or child would ever cause that fear in her. Not now, not ever again. With the moon's puzzled gaze of its light against her, Amelia dared not look back. The emerald orbs of fierce power and blaze stayed focused on the street ahead of her. The fire continued to burn inside of her chest. She had a job to do, and there was never any time to waste