Mark
Mona, fickle name for sure. I've never met a more disasterous girl in my lifetime, and I was born in the mafia war years, as was she. Two city girls, with way too many pictures from our parents with the other in 'em. She grew up in the center of the city, it's very heart, and drifted away. Before I knew it, Mona could control a gun easy, and shoot someone without a shaky breath. We still kept in contact, if contact includes having each others numbers and never calling. She was deep in the brood of it, the criminal underground had taken her and wouldn't let go. Needless to say, hard to say too, she was having fun. Down there in the dark, no secrets got out. And all of the ones that did had a chase following right behind like the ripping tension of a bullets shot.
She got in because she killed somebody, ex-girlfriend, really a total trash bag. I should know, I was there during the relationship, one of the only times we got together for anything. Mona smoked enough that if you were to save up all of that smoke you could suffocate everyone in an eight story motel, right up to the rooftop. Though, she only did it when things were really getting her down. I was her consultant on that sort of stuff, though my word was wibbly-wobbly at best.
Then, she had a gun, short distance, barrel facing the temple of miss trash bag. Now, if I was a horrible mess at stoping her from smoking, what were the chances that I could stop her from shooting that bullet. Honestly, the way she held that gun, it was like she was meant to do that sort or job. I have clear and vivid memory of her picking up her fathers gun from his hiding place, and pretending to shoot bullets at me as I ran away, hiding and waiting. That's what I aced at, hiding and attacking from a safe spot. Mona would get a face full of pebbles and she yelled my name and I would be there watching, grinning. It mite give your heart ease to know that the gun was on lock, no one got shot, thank god. And, sadly, we did get the gun taken away... and it scared off the neighbours well. It was all that I could hope for really.
It was not as if I used that gun much though. That night, as I stood behind Mona, shaking in my boots, not daring to grasp at what she held in her grip, she nodded at me with and effervescent smirk. "Remind you of the baby days?" I threw pebbles off the cement once her ex had landed dead on the ground. She had other friends, unfortunately. Most of them called her Gidget, after her handiwork. They were a lofty bunch, not too bad in the least but quite a hassel for a group of beings.
She was the one I fell in love with, name and aliases aside.
She got in because she killed somebody, ex-girlfriend, really a total trash bag. I should know, I was there during the relationship, one of the only times we got together for anything. Mona smoked enough that if you were to save up all of that smoke you could suffocate everyone in an eight story motel, right up to the rooftop. Though, she only did it when things were really getting her down. I was her consultant on that sort of stuff, though my word was wibbly-wobbly at best.
Then, she had a gun, short distance, barrel facing the temple of miss trash bag. Now, if I was a horrible mess at stoping her from smoking, what were the chances that I could stop her from shooting that bullet. Honestly, the way she held that gun, it was like she was meant to do that sort or job. I have clear and vivid memory of her picking up her fathers gun from his hiding place, and pretending to shoot bullets at me as I ran away, hiding and waiting. That's what I aced at, hiding and attacking from a safe spot. Mona would get a face full of pebbles and she yelled my name and I would be there watching, grinning. It mite give your heart ease to know that the gun was on lock, no one got shot, thank god. And, sadly, we did get the gun taken away... and it scared off the neighbours well. It was all that I could hope for really.
It was not as if I used that gun much though. That night, as I stood behind Mona, shaking in my boots, not daring to grasp at what she held in her grip, she nodded at me with and effervescent smirk. "Remind you of the baby days?" I threw pebbles off the cement once her ex had landed dead on the ground. She had other friends, unfortunately. Most of them called her Gidget, after her handiwork. They were a lofty bunch, not too bad in the least but quite a hassel for a group of beings.
She was the one I fell in love with, name and aliases aside.
