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The Path to Rediscovery

Georgina Wells—thief, burglar, whatever you call it. Aaron Miller—librarian, goody-two-shoes, and a stickler for the rules. An unlikely encounter in the most random of places leads these two to meet, instantly on each other's bad sides. Can they find common ground despite their seemingly totally different backgrounds? ~~ "What—what are you—" "I was wondering if I could get my phone back?" he asked politely. "Phone?" Georgina repeated owlishly,

curious_narwhal · Ciudad
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24 Chs

002

FLASHBACK

Once, there was a girl who was loved dearly by her parents. They had a stable house, the parents had stable jobs, and the daughter was given the best, yet the parents made sure to teach their child good things, so she would grow a strong and capable woman as time passed.

All was well, but fate always had its twists and turns.

The family of three had a vacation along the mountains. It was fun, full of laughter, and all recorded in memorable photos in a handy camera that clicked and shuttered as the photo went off.

The drive back down was tricky, but the father was confident they'd get through, despite the darkness of the night with the only light being the moon's dim rays.

The tragedy struck when a sleepy truck driver was passing through the same two-way road, hazy from sleep deprivation and barely holding on to consciousness.

Perhaps if the driver wasn't so woozy he wouldn't have almost crushed the family of three. Perhaps if the father didn't insist on driving the night, they wouldn't have had to swerve too much and ultimately fall to their deaths. Too many 'what-ifs' that remain only as that: what-ifs. The small car and the large pick-up truck crashed into each other, the young girl of nine the only survivor of the accident.

END FLASHBACK

~~

Georgina Wells sat up with a gasp from her recurring nightmare, tears stinging her eyes and chest heaving with the effort to breathe.

Her fingers shook as they furled into fists, cold beads of sweat on her skin and the nightmare fading away the more she stayed awake.

"Shit," she uttered, reaching over her overflowing bedside table to pull out a cigarette and promptly light it.

She inhaled deeply, the smoke entering her lungs pure bliss and the tightness in her chest subsiding bit by bit.

What to do now?

She threw off the blankets in favor of standing, something furry brushing against her bare legs.

A look below confirmed that her Bengal cat Oscar had greeted her, big brown eyes looking up at their owner that melts Georgina's cold heart.

Cats are the best.

She stooped down to scratch the spot behind the ears, opening up a curtain just a tad to be greeted with the sight of pollution and noisy people bustling about.

Even as early as five, there was already a huge traffic. Some tiny specks of humans were bickering with one another; never a pretty sight to behold. There was almost no sight of early birds for they had all gone the moment they realized it was impossible to live in an environment like this.

Georgina wished to be like the birds: flying up and away whenever deemed necessary. Much like this time.

She shook her head, disappointed at the sight, before letting go of the fabric to walk toward the small kitchenette, the cigarette hanging loosely from her thin lips.

She grabbed her spectacles to shove them on her face, tying her messy brown locks into a bun and looking through her small mini-fridge to find something to salvage for the morning.

If she were to count up the years living like this, she'd say this was the fifth year of being a snatcher, her hands deft at their craft and her physique just right not to be noticed or spotted immediately.

Twenty-three and five feet, Georgina had been living life on the streets since the young age of eighteen, finishing high school and fending for herself by taking from others and jumping from place to place.

Her parents died on that car accident, her being sent to live with her uncle and aunt until coming of age, leaving right after graduating and college plans out the window. She didn't want to leech off of the couple any longer. So she left, trying to live a decent life before ultimately falling to the snatchers' way and living like that ever since.

Her noodles fell limply on the tabletop as she slurped, staring at it despondently before scooping up the strands and eating them anyway. Not everyone could eat, so she had to make do with what she had.

Her hand came up to cradle her head, thoughts a scattered mess and heart curiously empty as the sense of finding purpose hit her momentarily.

She can't call Veronica since she's cut ties with the woman who seems to have her whole life mapped out for her, a passionate journalist and engaged to a good man who coincidentally, was Georgina's own cousin. She, Georgina, would only mess it up for her. It was best to stay away.

But who could she rely on for epiphanies and crazy theories on life? Who could she talk to, who wouldn't judge her and would be willing to share opinions and thoughts on the matter? None like Nica, she realized.

A sigh blew past her lips, the feeling of loneliness eating up her being, her sodden noodles sitting heavily on her stomach. It was cold and unpleasant and she wished she never ate in the first place if thoughts like these would plague her.

She'll have to steal a watch today, she mused, looking at the broken clock hanging by the far wall. It struck her that she never bothered to change it until today, and set on going about her daily morning routine until the afternoon.

The strets were bustling with life and activity as Georgina walked the smooth, paved roads, wearing casual attire consisting of shirt and jeans under a Chesterfield coat with multiple pockets to blend in with the crowd.

Her eyes zipped across men talking on phones, teens walking their dogs, and street children running past with joyous laughter. A twinge of jealousy entered her heart at the smiles on their faces, living freely even when life didn't have much to offer.

Her shoulder brushed against a rich woman's and she feigned stumbling, her hand shooting out to discreetly reach into the other's pocket before she could notice.

A half-hearted apology left her lips, the woman not minding her as she continued to walk purposefully, head held high.

Georgina gave the woman a fleeting gaze before hurrying her pace in case the woman finds out she'd been stolen.

Sure enough, before she could leave the area, a shout of protest resounded as the woman frantically looked around before landing on her figure, a polished hand pointing towards her.

"She stole my wallet! Someone help me!" she cried hysterically, and Georgina took that as cue to run away, heavy and telltale footsteps of police chasing after her.

Welp, time to go.