17. My muse finds yours being beaten up.
Forrest barely knew the other very well, but after finding her passed out on the front lawn of someoneâs home, somehow the two became friends. Eventually, the kid ended up showing Charlize around the city that she wasnât familiar with - although she always remind the other, never to go looking for her.
The area in which she âlivedâ was screwed up to say the least. She didnât dare to mix with the people that crashed out in similar ways to herself. The only reason she stayed was because she was able to hide herself. No one would bother to come looking for her and Forrest didnât look for trouble; she blended in perfectly.
It was that one strange night where she just felt that feeling in the pit of her stomach that something bad would happen. Her footsteps echoed around the empty - apart from someone appearing to be drunk on the sidewalk - street while she hurried to get back to her hiding spot. Stopping at the sound of voices, Forrest frowned. She never got involved with fights, shamefully, even if there was someone innocent being picked on. It was a sure-fire way to getting beaten up herself.
But this time was different. The girl would have recognised that voice anywhere, and it was filled with pain and fear. Peering round the brick wall into an alleyway, her eyes widened. In the faint light of the streetlamp she could barely recognise Charlieâs face underneath the blood around her nose and her swollen eye. Her body was doubled up on the ground, curling up in an attempt to block the kicking and punches being thrown by some prick most likely trying to take her money. Either that, or he had simply noticed Charlie was different. Without another thought, Forrest was sprinting towards them. She wasnât strong by any means, in fact she was pretty scrawny. But fortunately she took him by surprise, sending him staggering away. âTry it again,â Forrest growled, putting herself between the two even though her hands shook. âAnd Iâll fucking cut your throat.â