hell is here

Angie had no clue to why she was in the park. She just wanted to get away from her tiny flat for the day, but this was definitely not where she'd intended to go.

The readhead decided not to even care. She sat down on a bench and put her sunglasses on so nobody would bother her.

"You know," Ashleen flopped onto the bench beside the girl. Her pet, a new constant companinon by herside, was off running around the park, sniffing at each person who walked by and being a general pest, but she didn't bother trying to control her, "You'd might get less people to bother you, by looking less like you don't want to be bothered."

She gave a little smirk, her eyes dancing with michief that was quickly coming from a desire not to care about anything.

"Just a tip for future knowledge. When you look like you don't want to be bothered... its just begging for people like me to come and bother you."

Angie turned to face the younger girl, blinking in surprise before her expression became irritated.

"I suppose so," she said, her voice bitter. "I have never experienced that. Has something insane happened over the past few hours?" The redhead frowned.

"Beg?" Angie repeated. "Bitch, please. I never beg. Especially not for annoying people like you to bother me." She nodded as though this were a fact everybody and their uncle should know.

Ashleen scoft and rolled her eyes, "Darling, I didn't mean you wanted to beg for me to come. I was merely pointing out the errors of your ways. You looked so completely the opposite of wanting people to talk to you it was almost childish."

Flipping her hair over her shoulder she shrugged. Misery loved company and all that. Maybe that was why she was doing this. Though looking back upon it, even Ash before the break up would have done the same thing. There was just something about obvious petulance that she had to go bother.

"You wanted something so much, I had to give you the opposite."

Angie sighed. "Oh, well. Thank you for pointing that out for me, whoever you are. Didn't your mother ever tell you not to talk to strangers?" She shook her head.

She rolled her eyes. "Oh, so you're a mind-reader."

"My mother's dead," she stated easily, promptly, in a manor that although wasn't looking for sympathy was attempting to make one feel bad. It had just been too good of an opportunity not to, "Has been for a long while. Died before we got to that lesson I suppose."

Pulling her leg up into the air, she frowned at her shoe twisting it to the side and glancing at it again.

"Mind reader? Yeah sure, something like that."