[REST] i n p e a c e

[.| S I E N N A [austen] xx]

<sub>Steady rocking motion eased the young girl, her eyes tightly closed against the bright sun. The noise was still overwhelming, even down here, on the docks, sitting in her father's boat ... She sighed lightly, looking around at all the passers by, smiling at a few familiar fishermen she'd met before.

She occasionally came to her dad's yacht. It was a place from her to go when she needed rest and a bit of alone time, she'd simply lay on the glossy wooden deck, ear buds in ear, listening to any random music that came on, her eyes closed against the sun, the gentle swaying of the water calming her.

One more glance around, and she sat up, crossing herlegs and pulling out her headphones, turning of the pink iPod Video, and placing it in her bag. Her mini skirt showed off perfectly tanned legs, but, that was fake, she had locks of a luscious red, therefore didn't tan naturally, but, she'd had it done professionally, and it looked natural. She thought deeply, about where Kezia and india'd be rightnow. Her feelow triplets. Probably still at home in bed, not like Sienna.

Being a paramedic intern meant being up at 3am, and being home at only 9pm, but, she had a special free time today, already she'd helped a woman give birth, watched two people die, one of which a boy that same age as her, after being stabbed.

She knew New York was a dangerous place, but se'd grown up in Italy, home of the Godfather. Well, it wasn't like that now, in fact, Italy was quite a respectable place, but NYC and Italia had their similarities, they still had crime, and murder and all sorts like that.

She turned around on the spot, gripping her flip flops and sliding them over her feet, her tank top white and bright, highlighted even more by the magnificent sun that towered even higher than the tallest offices and highrises, even the EMpire State.

rooting through her bag she pulled out a little cardboard box, wrapped in a thin cellophane, tearing it she flicked open the top of the box, tearing some shiny metallic paper and pulling out a cigarette. She gripped her lighter, knocking the little wheel back and watching the light and heat flare up from a little chamber. Placing the browned cork part in her mouth, she touching the tip of the cig with the flame, and atched as a grey powdery ash began to form, smoking was a bad, disgusting habbit that Ms. Sienna Austen had fallen for.</sub>