Not Alive to Live

Charlotte slipped on the dress over her head, the soft flowy material falling down her body and the cool metal brushing against her back was jarring before it slowly warmed to her body heat. The dress had long sleeves that were luckily tight so that it wouldn't get in the way of the low neckline.

She turned back to Lucia, who also changed her clothing as if she were dirty into an all-black ensemble mirroring hers, the haggardness and displeasure coming off of her in waves. Charlotte frowned when she realized that everyone was truly only trying to make a living no matter where they were.

The dream of peace whether that lay within the center of the city to what was deemed as the middle class of those working a nine to five regularly to those who lived a secluded life in the outer ring was all a dashing dream that was never attainable to anyone.

Those in the center were on a conquest for never-ending power and entertainment wherever that may be, and those in the working class only wanted the norms of going to work and having a family.

She didn't know those in the outer ring to say much, yet she wanted to say that they were able to live a quaint life based on her sightings of the young kids that lived near her home.

There were larger problems that made the foundation that everyone stood on, a ticking time bomb, yet Charlotte was out here battling for her life, battling for a race that might not even defend hers, only for a chance to breathe. For a chance to have a life that she had somewhat naively planned to be boring in time.

The mirror that was positioned slightly to the left of her and adjacent to the main door showed her reflection, and she inched her way over to see her form in the dark which was highlighted by the dress that fell down her curves in a seductive manner. She didn't want to wear it. It felt as though she had already intruded on Lucia's space enough.

Yet, she had the feeling that most things inside the room, Lucia couldn't even call her own. It was a shame, and Charlotte attached the rest of her holsters on her thigh and the belt of knives underneath the dress, knowing that the material will dig into her skin, but she would rather be fully armed rather just one gun.

Feeling the cold gun pressed against her warm skin was jarring, and she glanced back to Lucia who was gathering all of her belongings. They needed to get out of here soon as the early morning darkness was still chasing them to daybreak. She wondered if Vincent was okay. If anything, he was probably doing just fine without her.

It was how haggard he was on the phone that rose her ire. He sounded as if he was badly wounded. It wasn't lost to her that if she didn't have Vincent by her side, she was practically open game to whatever enemies Vincent had encountered on his way. Her hand shook as she ran a finger down the length of the gun.

She wasn't strong enough yet to stand on her own. Maybe she still wouldn't be even when the time called for it. But for now, she would have to do her best and stick by Vincent's side, going in blind but that was certainly the bliss of it. If Vincent had shown her the bigger picture, she would have already run away by now.

"I don't have any other clothes to give to you," Lucia said slowly as she continued to bag her items. "Wear it now. I have a sheer black face guard that is clipped to a golden chain."

Charlotte opened her hands to receive the item that Lucia took out from her dresser. The face guard was pretty as were the dainty chains that were cheaply made yet sturdy. "This will attract more attention than not. Something simpler will do."

"It will be fine," Lucia said with a dismissive hand.

Charlotte lifted the face guard on and covered her nose to her chin with the thin black fabric, laying the golden chains on her hair that was a train wreck in the tussled waves. Lucia tossed her leather black gloves that Charlotte also slipped on and was glad that most of her body was covered well.

She pulled the dress back a bit to try and adjust the low neckline and finally sat at the edge of the bed, as she watched Lucia pull out more valuables. Charlotte tilted her head, as she tried to assess the situation. "Are you also trying to escape?"

"Not really. But I'm leaving."

"To where?"

"Is that your business to ask about my worries when you haven't even taken cared of yours?"

"Well, it doesn't hurt to ask."

"I'd say it's a waste of your breath."

Charlotte leaned back and brought her hands together in her lap. "This isn't your home, isn't it?"

Lucia straightened and replied flatly, "No. It's not. This is the slums, Charlotte, and everyone here is crowded into one place as if livestock. We, who live here, are not alive to live. Yet, here I am trying to make a living."