Brianna Devereaux: The Mambo (Completed)

Deveraux

Going back inside the cathedral, Brianna had bought a new stun gun and it was thankfully charged up. She’d sat at a coffee shop and used their free wifi on the phone she’d gotten.

A cheap android that had cost a hundred dollars, but it’d been worth it. And the cheap prepaid phone plan as well. Edging inside, Brianna listened and still heard nothing but the scuffling and fumbling of squirrels and rodents.

As she came into the nave, Brianna stepped over dead rodents. It grossed her out, but as tired as she was, she couldn’t even squirm. She threw down the heaps of bags she was carrying and fell into a pew breathing hard.

Arms feeling like Jell-O, Brianna wanted to sleep. All her exercising before now had been track and cheerleading. Stealing and carrying a household worth of groceries and cleaning supplies hadn’t been on the list.

But that’s what she’d done, and she’d succeeded. But that was only half the work for her.

Brianna had to tie her hair back with a bandanna and worked well into the night using the candles she’d bought. Cleaning the bathroom and a room close to the nave and swept up and mopped in there, her room, and bathroom.

After scrubbing the walls until they shined Brianna looked around the room she’d chosen.

It had once been a music room, that much was clear. But alas no one had played music in a while. The walls were painted an olive green, and other than a tree seemingly growing from the floor into the wall, the room was untouched by wildlife.

Walking to the piano, other than a fine layer of dust and vines, it was in perfect condition. Brianna cleaned it off and lit candles all around her. Rolling out the twin air mattress, Brianna had gotten faux satin sheets and a blanket and a small pillow. Her only sources of comfort.

Laying them out, she turned to the unused African percussion drums and cleaned them off. Putting her deodorant and wipes there neatly, she also laid out a stack of small towels and two large ones.

After the bed was now completely blown up, Brianna unhooked the pump. She tapped the hard bed and knew it wouldn’t be a perfect sleep. But it’d be in her own bed.

Inhaling, Brianna looked in her bags at the jeans, shirts, and underwear she’d gotten. None of it cute and fashionable, but all of it fit and some of it dwarfed her.

Starting to realize she couldn’t be spotted or seen as a weak-link because of her gender, Brianna was going to have to hide her body. Who knew having breast would make life so hard? She thought warily looking at the huge bulky jacket.

Laying down on her plastic bed, Brianna checked her phone and decided to look at the news. And like feared, her face was all over every station.

Clicking on a news castor’s face, Brianna swallowed hard. She listened as grainy footage was pulled up in a small corner by his head.

A handsome man, white and in his mid-forties spoke seriously, as he said, “Our leading story tonight is regarding missing teen Brianna Jones. She was spotted today at her old school, Hamilton High, and reportedly stole money from students. Here’s Jessica with that story.”

And then the screen picked up to a white woman smiling awkwardly until she was given the signal to speak. “Thank you, Davis. Yes, today folks at around eleven the runaway teenager snuck in while everyone was in class. No one knows how she managed that yet, but she managed to sneak away with almost a thousand dollars. We spoke to a couple of her classmates; this is what they said.”

Misty Tomas, a rich socialite came on to the screen acting the good girl Brianna knew her not to be. “I just feel so bad she’s obviously desperate to do something like this. I just hope she’s okay.”

And then Damien Storm, a hot football player had shrugged as he admitted, “At first, I was annoyed but knowing what she’s been through, you kind of get it. I just hope she’s not in any danger with all that cash on the streets.”

The video then cut back to Jessica, the pretty blonde in her pink told the public, “If you remember Brianna Jones is the daughter of the late Terrance Jones, former ADA of New York. Since his passing Brianna was staying with family but some how ended up in a group home. Which is now, open for investigation due to s****l assault allegations.”

Pulling up a picture of Brianna, a smiling school picture of when she was dumb and innocent, Jessica told them, “Brianna has been living on the streets of New York for  a week now and this is the first sign of her. If you see her, please call this number as shown. Her family is worried about.”

There were videos of her Aunt Georgia soaking up the attention acting like she cared. While of course her Uncle Ray and Aunt Pam kept running from the cameras with ducked heads. It had gotten leaked that they’d had her in custody and dumped her at the group home.

Which of course had people asking why.

Nervous at the heat on her, Brianna honestly hadn’t thought that far of ahead. She knew the students would be angry she’d robbed them, but she thought it’d be an in-house matter.

But obviously she forgot to consider the facts. She was a missing runaway and the daughter of the most beloved ADA in New York history, it wasn’t happening. Seeing her beaming face all over the news bothered her.

She’d be spotted a lot more easily now no matter where she went. And getting out of New York right now wasn’t an option for her. She couldn’t be on her own in a place she didn’t know.

After dealing with the skeevy New Yorkers of the lower class she’d fallen on her face with, she couldn’t go anywhere else. She knew her people, her way around the city, and had a secure place to hide for now. If she were to leave, she’d give that up for the unknown.

And she couldn’t turn her back on her town. Not when the very soul of her pounded it in her to stay true to where she was born.

Knowing that meant a change in appearance though, Brianna reached into another bag. The hair supplies she’d boughten and a couple she’d stolen like the theft she was becoming, Brianna exhaled. Holding up the dye, Brianna knew her mother was screaming in her grave.

“Sorry mama,” Brianna whispered amused a little just seeing Willow’s angry face in her mind, “I gotta do it now.”

A week later…

“Hey Angel, wanna come ride on this d**k!?” Brianna ignored the hollering man behind her and rushed down the street. It was late, later than she’d meant to stay out. But her future was being written with her pick pocketing and she couldn’t stop now.

It was an old school hustle, and with her actually clean and looking so much different she knew no one expected it. Rushing past an alley, Brianna almost screamed until a knife was pressed to her neck.

“Give me your money baby nice and slow and I won’t carve up this pretty face.” Brianna nodded and slowly reached in her bra and gave the man the two hundred dollars. Counting, buttery teeth flashed in the streetlight as he sneered, “That’s it? Or do I gotta go in there myself?”

Brianna jumped a mile high when he reached for her breast, but he held the knife steady on her neck. “Don’t make me hurt you bitch.”

And then he was reaching down her bra and trying to find more cash. But when it was obvious, he was done searching and now just enjoying, Brianna shoved him back hard. “Stop!” Tripping, the hood fell off his face and Brianna looked at the young black man scared.

He looked rougher than her, and while it was obvious, he was sober, his eyes seemed wild. As he began to approach her growling something that felt drowned, he stabbed Brianna in the stomach, and she fell to the ground holding her wound in pain.

Panting as the man seemed to realize what he did, he took off leaving Brianna to bleed to death. Crying as she held her waist, Brianna groaned as she sat up. Desperate, Brianna knew calling for help would get her caught, but she knew not calling for help meant dying.

Thirty blocks from where she needed to be, Brianna couldn’t make it. Not bleeding as bad as she was. Trembling as she started to feel cold, Brianna whispered desperately, “Mama?”

And then her world went dark.

“You can’t protect her forever Willow! She’s your daughter and she was born for a purpose. You know that.” Willow ignored her mother as she cradled her daughter, “Will you help, or won’t you? Because I can take her to Mama Rosa if I need to.” Grand-mère looked at her daughter affronted, “You’d take her to another blood line rather than admit you’re wrong? How her father has rubbed off on you.”

Willow accepted the verbal slap as she looked at her daughter in fear. “I told you I didn’t want this for myself and I never wanted it for her. So, will you help or won’t you?”

Sage, or Grand-mère as Brianna called her, of course helped since she didn’t want any other messing with her grandbabies head. But as she cradled the little girl gently, she whispered angrily to her daughter, “You continue to deny her gifts chile, and she’ll be easy pickin’s. She’ll learn the hard way, or she’ll die trying. Because of you.”

And then a white light filled the room as Sage Deveraux tried to prevent what was to come. But even she wasn’t that powerful. 

Brianna woke up startled as she laid sprawled across the air mattress. It was partially deflated, and she was sinking down the middle. Confused, Brianna was only her little white tank top and her panties. Touching her stomach, Brianna felt nothing but something weird and bumpy.

Getting up, Brianna looked at the mirror she’d stuck to the wall. They were little hexagon squares all sold individually for a dollar. After buying twenty, she had a cute mirror on her wall that looked like it cost more.

And in that mirror, showed a sleep tousled Brianna with an old scar on her side. Where she’d been stabbed she had no injury anymore. Just a f*****g cut and it was healed like it’d been months. Looking around for a sign of when she came in, Brianna checked her phone and saw it was eight in the morning. Her shirt, still torn from where she’d been stabbed, Brianna looked at the blood spots.

She’d been stabbed, she couldn’t have gotten up and walked away from that. But how did she get here? And what the hell happened to her? But with no answers in sight, Brianna went to take a shower.

Stepping out of her clothes, Brianna felt a flutter by her leg. Stepping out her pants, Brianna bent down and stopped dead seeing a couple bloody bills had fallen out her back pocket. The two hundred dollars her friend with the knife had taken from her.

But somehow, she had gotten it back, covered in splatters of blood. But she had it, and she couldn’t begin to understand how.