This need for danger was something that flowed with power through the young girl’s veins; the kind of power that would knock one off their feet, stealing what little air they had in their lungs, only to leech to their soul, stealing anything that was worth taking. Going against the law was one of the few things that made her feel alive, as if she was standing atop the world, shouting that she was here and that she would be damned if she allowed this life to get the best of her. The doctors told her parents that this stage of hers was normal within teens that had experienced a severe lost. What they couldn’t see was that she had always been this way; her parents had been buried too deep within their own worlds to see their daughters crashing down around her. It was only after Andrew’s death that they were drawn out of their haze, only to be met with a girl they could no longer recognize. Her mother still talked of the days where Crisis would run about in her dresses, her favourite doll plastered to her side, but that little girl had died without their notice. Crisis had buried her in the backyard, leaving the doll from her past to watch guard over the deceased. It seemed twisted in many ways to attend her own funeral, but what she had needed all those years ago was closure, this knowing that she had changed, that she was no longer anyone’s little girl. She should have cried that day, she should have sat in solemn silence, but instead all she had done was stared at her dirt caked hands, wondering to herself how many days she had left until this was no longer some silly game. If she was to die tomorrow, she wondered how many would attend her funeral. She was sure the numbers would be low, something that she found eerily satisfying. This had to do with the fact that she knew she hadn’t touched many lives, this knowing that she wouldn’t leave behind very many weeping bodies. She didn’t want to leave her mark when she left this world; she wanted to leave this world the same way she came into it, completely and utterly alone. To this day she could remember Andrew’s funeral; the church had been packed to the brim, people standing at the back without seats, all wanting to pay their respects to the boy who had left without as much as a goodbye. She remembered all the tears, the kind words that were shared, but mostly she remembered all the stares, all the murmurs. She hadn’t been welcomed in that church that day; his mother had basically chased her out by the end of the ceremony. She knew she hadn’t deserved to be there, but she had to see him one last time, she needed to say goodbye. Like all those years ago what she had needed was closure, the knowing that he knew how deeply sorry she was. She could paint all the pictures of the world, but it would never be enough, they would go by unsaid, they would go by unheard.
Glancing over her shoulder, she peered into the eyes that were far too familiar to her. How she wished she could reach up and take his hand, how she wished she could feel his lips against hers one last time. It was selfish of her to think in such a manner, if it wasn’t for her she would still be able to do so, but she had tarnished it all with one touch of taint. From the start she had been told that she never deserved him, how sad it was when she realized they had been right all along. Sighing quietly to herself, she shifted her attention back to the boy standing before her. His naivety was astounding, something that was unheard of in this day and age. All this did was fuel her to want to corrupt him, to mold him into her own image. She wanted someone who would streak down the street with her, someone who would go around slashing tires, and someone who would admire her vandalism instead of seeing it as something illegal. Breaking the law could be beautiful; it could be art in its own word, as long as you were willing to take the risks that came along with it. Shifting her weight from one foot to the other, she absentmindedly chewed on her lower lip, balancing his question in her hands. The risks of getting caught were high, but that was all a part of the fun. That was why these acts were considered to be illegal because people actually enjoyed them, bringing smiles to the people’s lips that reached their eyes. “You can’t tell me that you’ve never considered doing something risky before,” Taking another step closer to the boy, she observed him closely. He looked like the type to abide by the law, the type to mind his manners, and listen to the words of his father. He certainly didn’t strike her as the type who could match her speed, who could run with the best of them. Brushing her hair off her shoulder, words running with a frenzy through her mind, trying to piece together how she could get him to stand on her side, how she could get him to see the world through her eyes. “The whole thrill is the knowing that you might get caught, but being clever enough not to. If I strike you a deal, saying if we get caught, I’ll take all the blame, what would your response be?” She knew the offer must be at least a tad bit inviting, and the knowing that he wouldn’t have to face the blame enthralling. There had been too many people that she had brought into her twisted web, too many people that had succumbed to her power. No one was ever safe where Crisis was concerned; they would all one day run where the wild things are.
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