Staryl Will: Wanted dead or alive
Reward: 300k
Description: 8 year old girl with green eyes and brown hair wielding multiple types of guns.
Wanted for mass murder of half of New York, attempted assassination of president Obama, robbing 67 banks across the nation, and breaking into 10 US post locations.

Star smiles at the tv infront of her before taking a hammer and smashing it to pieces. Around her was littered with broken glass, blood and shelves that were knocked down. She picks up her bag of goods and took out a mini bottle of hair spray. She sprays the floor leading to the middle of the store and put the bottle down then takes out a match and lights it. As she walks out of the store she sets the match down at the end of the hair spray trail and sets the store on fire.


2. Cont.

Star hesitated, she looked up at Jamal with the most curious eyes.

"What did they do?" She waited for his answer. Jamal patted her head and ran his fingers through her hair.

"They are bad people, they stole money from us and couldn't pay it back. Then they hired men to KILL me! Don't you want these men dead? The men who almost killed your precious Jamal?" Star clenches her her jaw, and nodded. She looked at the wailing men and aimed the gun at the first guy's thigh and shot, she shot as many times as she could to let him feel the pain for a while before ending his misery. When she glanced up, she could see Jamal's praising expression; one that made her insides clench with happiness. She continued to do the same with the other two men to keep Jamal's happy expression glued to his face.

Afterwards she went through the real training; she sparred with other children, handled various guns, concocted different poisons, and strengthened her body.  By the end of the day, her little 2 year old body was purple from the bruises she gained that day but would heal after a night of sleep. This routine would continue every day, week, month and year until her 8th birthday where everything goes downhill.




"Hooooooooooooe! Get cho white ass down here and clean this muther fucker" Star comes out of her room and shoots the woman a death stare before bending down and cleaning her mess. She clenches her fist and flicks her middle finger up at the woman behind her back, Star was getting tire of this routine. She walked outside and was greeted with the smell of gun powder and bloods, she inhales deeply and sighs, it's was a warming scent to her.

"Happy birthday, Star!" A present is shoved into the hands of the now 8 year old girl. She looks down at the present and then up at the mysterious person; it was Jamal, she smiled widely at him and said her thanks, then ripped open the present, it was a small gun. She examines it closely, and looked in the magazine; it was loaded with BB pellets, she frowns at her new gun.


"You could have gotten me a real gun, I can handle it..." Star puts the gun back in the box and shoves it back into Jamal's arms.

"Hey now, even though you technically 'graduated' college, you're still only 8" Jamal messes up her hair and gives the present back. Star cringes at the word 'technically', she didn't spend the last 7 years studying her ass off to graduate college just to hear  that she only 8. She did it to grow up faster, to be an adult, to leave this hell hole called home.

"I am the first person to get my masters degree at the age of 7, don't you tell me I'm not capable!" She shoves the present back. "You told me I wasn't capable of graduating college, and looky here! MASTERS! You told me It would take practice and at least 10 years to aim correctly," she takes the gun out of his holster and shot three rounds towards a target, all hitting the bulls eyes. "It's only been 7. You said I would be weaker than the others because I was youngest and a girl, they fear my very name!" Star looks over at the group of adolescent black kids "You guys feel like fighting?" She randomly yells and surprisingly, they all jump back a foot and furiously shakes their head no. "Now you tell me I can't own a real gun because I'm freaking 8?! I've handled real guns before, I've handled them for 7 years!" Star was furious, she marches out of the door, picking up a small automatic handgun on the way out. "I'm going for a walk because I'm way MATURE!" 

She slams the door and shoves the gun into the front pocket of her hoodie and walked toward downtown. Once she arrived she realized there was no point in walking downtown, no point to prove. She slouched and continued to wandering around until it got dark. Star stopped walking, nobody came after her; it was her birthday and when she left, nobody gave a single shit. She thought deeply of what she was feeling at the moment: sadness, confusion, disappointment, anger. Then she was snapped out of her train of thought, "Little girl, are you lost? Do you need a ride home?" A hand rests itself on her shoulder and squeezes, she looks over her shoulder to see a man dressed in a back sweat suit.

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