Ciara walks down her Father's driveway, lighting a joint as she goes. Stupid fucking old man, keeping her a virtual prisoner! She inhales the potent smoke and holds it in her lungs, glaring at the large and richly appointed house looming over her. Feeling trapped as always, she tosses a stone at the offending building and sits down on the manicured lawn. She stretches her legs out before her and leans back in the prickly grass, exhaling a thick cloud of smoke.
Her skin tingles, as if warning her that's something's coming and she feels a pull in her heart. She pauses, arching a manicured brow at the sensation. This isn't the first time this has happened, but this is the first time it's hit her this strongly before. She shrugs it off, taking another hit. The feeling that something is coming is overwhelming, and she runs through a mental list to see if she's forgotten anything. Her phone rings, and she takes it out of her pocket, sliding the screen up. She doesn't recognise the number but her heart beat quickens as she hits the call button and puts the thing to her ear.