A subway station is a dirty, busy, crowded and cold place. A place where people gather to get to places, not really meant to be a social party. Most people there are in their own worlds with head phones, tablets, phones or books.
I am a Journalist. I’ve studied Psychology and Criminology as well, so I enjoy observing my surroundings instead of being locked into a phone. And that’s what I do every morning, and believe it or not, the people I get bad feelings about I would usually end up either interviewing or writing in the Times about. I was standing near the doors holding onto a bar for support. I decided to start with my deductions.
I looked around at the 7 or so people around me, I started with the man to my right. He was an average build, kinda scruffy, dark haired with the starting of a beard. He was holding onto a Billy and Joes coffee cup struggling to stay awake.
“Coffee…” I thought to myself. “I didnt have any this morning. I should stop at…” The train bumped a bit, I remembered that I had little time to pick the people apart around me, so I continued on the coffee man.
Hes holding a brief case thats quite new. So are his shoes. But hes scruffy… His tie is nicely knotted, clothes are very clean. Oh… The case says Mumford Restate. Explains it… poor guy working for that old grump, no wonder he looks tired.
Moving on.
I went through all the people around me, none of them were anything even close to suspicious.
Until, I got to the little girl sitting beside me. She had red hair, fair skin and a face full of freckles. there wasn’t anything of concern about her, but what caught my eye was her hands and arms. Arms were full of scares, but her figures played a cover of ‘Hello’ by Adele. I tapped her shoulder lightly.
I leaned down, “That was a little flat. Start again from the top.” I laughed to myself and stood back up.
She looked up to me and laughed. “Sorry was my playing too loud?”
“Not at all.” I sarcastically responded. “In fact, i could hardly hear you.”
Her face blushed a little and she giggled.
“You on this by yourself? You seem a little young to be alone?” I spoke low so no one else would hear me.
“Im, uh… Ive been on my own for most of my life. Im fine.” She smiled up at me reassuringly.
“Most of your life, youre no older than 13.”
He face was shocked. “Ill be 14 in 2 months and 5 days, but how did you know that I was 13? Everyone thinks that i’m at leased 17?”
“I see things in people that others don’t. I can tell because i’m trained to…”
I studied her. “Don’t you think you’re a little young to be doing this.” I sat down beside her and gently touched the white scar.
She lowered her face and I saw a tear fall. “I just want to be with my mom again.” Her voice cracked, but she didnt pull away.
My heart broke for her… but what could I do. I did’nt know her, she could be some psycho child that no one wants. We sat in silence for a few minutes while the train bumped, stopped turned and shook. I finally broke the awkward silence.
“I know im a complete stranger, but how would you feel about coming with me to work for the day? Im a journalist. I would love some company?”
Her face light up and the biggest smile began to appear. But then her face grew grave and her eyes flashed around as if she was looking for someone.
“I… I dont think that would be okay with, um… The man I work for, I think he needs me in today.”
“The man you work for?” My heart dropped. I knew exactly what she was talking about. But I played it off as if I didn’t. “How about you come on a day that you’re not working then. I work with the Washington Times, come by the office anytime, just ask for me.” I smiled at her reassuringly. “I’m Missy Carter. And you are?” I held out my hand for her to shake. Up to then I was sitting on her left so I didn’t get a look at her right hand. She reached out to shake mine, and low and behold, there sat on her wrist an A tattoo and that nasty red band… She was a prostitute. At 14… inside, I was completely disturbed, but hiding my feelings was one of my best talents.
“Im Brianna…”
“Brianna who?”
The subway came to a stop, she sat staring at me. I started to get up.
“This is me” I stood there and stalled myself from walking away. “Will I see you again Brianna?”
“Yes, ill be here again. Tomorrow…” She was very distracted and her words were slurred and delayed.
“Okay then. See ya tomorrow.” I walked to the doors. But she ran to my side and grabbed my arm desperately. “Its Brianna James. Ill see you tomorrow right? Your promise?” I shook my head and held her hand gently. “ill find you.” She said as she let go of me and sat back down. i smiled at her one more time then stepped off the platform.
I watched her until the tunnels hid her from me.
“What just happened.” I thought to myself quite dazed. That was the weirdest fastest conversation i’ve ever had with someone…
I got to the Times building and ran to my office, grabbed as much information as I could on the A triangles (That’s what they were called) I made a coffee and rushed out to see some friends in higher places.
I stopped at the local police and asked about a Brianna James.
“We have a lady with that name but does not fit your description. Why are you looking her up anyways?”
“I just have a bad feeling…”
“Is it for the paper?”
“…no its more personal work.”
“You know I cant just give you information Missy, it has to be for the paper.”
“Kyle, we have been best friends… for forever! I think you can do me a little favor.”
“Alright, have at her.” He pushed the computer my way and I checked to see if there were any prostitutes in the jail house. There were 3, and one admitted just 2 weeks ago. The A tattoo on Brianna was completely healed, so she’d been there longer than 2 weeks. I started with her.
She was a ruff looking individual with a fowl mouth and had no filter. She spouted off to me that I had no business talking with her, and that I was an ugly wench. I payed no attention (I don’t get why she was calling me ugly… apparently she hasn’t looked in a mirror for a while.)
I asked her if she knew Brianna, she grew quiet, folded her arms and defiantly said, “no”.
I got the guard behind her to lift her right hand up. There was no tattoo.
“Crap.” I said in frustration. “Welp, you’re no use to me now.” I asked him to get me the next girl. But right before fowl mouth was able to leave, she laughed and said.
“You thought I was working for Duncan didn’t you?”
I held my hand up so the guard would stop, “yeah I did… why?”
“I’ve seen and done some things, but one thing I would never be stupid enough to do, is work for Duncan.”
I ran back to Kyle. “Do you have anything on a Duncan?”
“Duncan? like the guy that’s being accused of running a brothel, but no one can pin him down on it? That Duncan?”
I sighed deeply. “Yup I guess that one.”
“Listen, Missy, I know you have to tendency to care about people aka. this Brianna girl, but there is no way you could get this guy. No one ever slips up when it comes to him. Us and the F.B.I have been trying to pin him down, but that’s his street name… at the moment, hes constantly changing names and disguises, no one even knows what he actually looks like or who he is. We’ve caught so many people that help with his dirty work, but never him. This Brianna girl, wont give you any links to him. I suggest that you let it go, maybe just be a friend to her.”
“Thanks for the help Kyle, you’re a good friend.” I flicked his cap so that it would go in his face. “But ill see about that.”
“You’re trouble Carter.”
~to be continued~
Another short story, hope you enjoyed 😊
As ive been growing out of my old ways, this hope has sprung back up into my mind, Stronger than ive ever felt about something. A part of me is scared because there is so much unknown to this. Also working full time, spending time with my family and just living my life, I find it hard to find time to learn a second language. Another thing im scared about, is, I have no idea really where God is leading me. But I pray that it will all become clear to me. I know God only speaks to us through His word, so I pray that what I’m feeling so strongly for, will be his will for me ❤ 
Ive always had a wandering and wondering soul. One that is always ready to pick up and go. (Ive moved close to 13 times and my family has always been open and ready to travel) 
This is a very random post, but its been on my mind for the last few weeks.
Growing pains and coffee 