#bimbosinSTEM

[system753]

Adomania- The sense that the future is coming too quickly

I watch as the tar covers me, the sins of me as just a child.

A child exposed to early to exposure itself but when is too early for the unforgivable creatures of the earth.

Inflicting on others what was inflicted on you, seeing your memories and wondering how they began as they follow you in a single file line.

Hello, how are you this fine morning, monster?

—

Chapter 1 (toxic, abusive, and manipulative relationships-extreme paranoia-quick emotional state changes-please mention any additions)

The romanticization of death is ridiculous, escape is already romantic.

At least if he kills me, I’ll still escape.

I climb out of bed as silently as I can once he’s finally turned over in his sleep. My stomach aches to my back in stress, but I get up quickly to keep the bed from creaking for too long. My feet have made it too the floorboards, and immediately I am sprint walking with my hand hovering near the wall.

One, two, three, four, five, skip, seven, eight. I count the floorboards to the window in the small room. It would be harder for him to climb down the window with me than to go all the way across the house, I figured. The window was always open, heat made him uncomfortable, then angry. I climbed out as quickly as I could, as quietly as I could. I had watched right above him the whole time, he couldn’t feel eyes on him but I could still make sure his were closed. I was climbing down, cutting my fingers on thorns, anticipating the later itch of poison ivy, two different vines forming their own invasive patch on his outer wall, providing a questionably sturdy area to climb down.

Another cut, this one bleeding, before I dropped down. Leaves crunched under my bare, wounded feet, and I almost looked up to see if he had heard and would be staring out at me through the window.

I breathed, then I ran.

—

“Hello, how can I help you today?”

I stared at Derek. My customer service persona unfaltering, him looking back determined.

“You can agree to the job interview my work offered you.”

“I’m sorry sir, FBI job offers aren’t on the menu. May I suggest a simple black coffee? You seem like the type to appreciate good caffeine.”

I had leaned in and checked that no one would hear my mention of the FBI. My brother leaned in right with me.

“Amahle, this job is perfect for you, you’re perfect for it, in fact. You get better benefits, better pay, you can put your genius to work helping others. You can work with me even, you’ll be safer there than out here with nobody you know and no one you know will help you if you’re in trouble.”

I paused, him trying to see what I was thinking, once again failing miserably.

“So one black coffee then?”

He sighed.

“A muffin too.”

I let out a smirk.

“And one strawberry muffin.”

—

“I’ll go to the interview, but I’m wearing what I want and you’re driving me to it.”

I walked in holding a bag and coffee cup, handing them over to Derek as he stared up in shock.

“Stop making that face Morgan your breath will attract flies.”

He closed his mouth and took a sip of coffee at my side eye.

“ What prompted this decision?”

Impulsivity of course, and I was surrounded by micro aggressions in that Starbucks wannabe I currently work in.

I said so. He snorted.

“So you’ll do it as long as I agree to be late waiting for you and let you cosplay as black Elle Woods?”

“Look I’m sorry you’re bald but don’t comment on my hair care, also it’s not cosplay, I am black Elle Woods. Otherwise though, yes.”

He excused the quip at his hairlessness and looked at the ceiling.

“Alright, I’ll accept those terms”

—

“Ms. Woods, we’re gonna be late!”

Derek yelled at the door. I’d nearly finished, applying hot pink eyeliner after my outfit was finished. A matching pink cropped suit jacket and short pencil skirt with a white turtleneck and small purse. Once finished, I walked out and through the door past him.

“Well, let’s get going then.”

—

3rd Person POV

As Derek Morgan walked in that morning, five minutes late, he was followed by a woman, about the same height as him in all pink, including black braids with pink underneath them.

This of course peaked some interest.

They went their separate ways halfway in, him walking to his workspace and her to the head office.

“Who’s that?”

Asked Emily Prentiss, eyes still on the door that had just closed.

“My sister, Amahle Morgan, theyl’ll be joining this department once that’s over.”

“She’s signing her contract already?”

“No this is an interview, they’ve been getting offers for months though. She’s gonna get the job.”

“That’s a bold claim, what makes them such an asset they’ve been getting scouted?”

He looked up from the papers. Prentiss already leaning on the wall that surrounded each office. Deeply invested in his siblings appearance.

“She’s a genius, logically gifted sure but more than anyone I’ve ever met apart from her they’ve emotionally intelligent. They’ve got this thing where if you tell ‘em the first three fictional characters and they can tell you things about your life story you never consciously considered.”

Emily thought in interest for a minute, nodding before stepping away and walking off, thinking about what characters she thinks of.

—

“So why should I take this job?”

Amahle sat in a flat cushioned chair, taking off her jacket and making eye contact with an older, brown haired white man.

“Wouldn’t that question normally be reversed?”

“You guys are the ones that offered me the job, I decide whether I want to take it.”

Amahle said, a small grin present on her face, as one always had to be now.

“That’s bold. Fair, though. My name is Aaron Hotchner, if you accept the job you can call me Hotch.”

Amahle’s grin widened.

“Tempting.”

—

About 30 minutes later, all but two members of the unit were fully interested in what could be happening behind that door, and whether they’d have another Morgan in the BAU soon.

Another 30 minutes and the woman that had been eavesdropping by the door heard footsteps. Signaling to the others and hurrying back to her desk, followed quickly by the others who had huddled around poor Derek Morgan’s space.

The door opened, Amahle walking out before Hodge.

An empty ID card waiting to be set up on a pink lanyard (likely brought herself just in case).

They looked around, reading faces. Somehow everyone who had just scattered knew they’d been found out. She held up her card.

“As of tomorrow afternoon, I’m the BAU’s newest doctor.”

One of the people who had still been working before looked up.

“Excuse me, did you say you’re a doctor?”

She nodded, her eyes smiling with her lips.

“Yes, and you must be Dr. Spencer Reid them?”