The bus screeched to a halt. My body jolted forwards. The guard walked up to me and tugged my hair, he then laughed while preceeding to pull me along with the other prisoners out. The prisoners all had something unique about them. Like a peircing, a scar, a tattoo or like me dyed hair. We weren't boring conformists or socially acceptable and we loved it. That feeling of rebellion gave us a rush of adrenaline and excitement. We had emotions not like mosf of our brainwashed world.
I snarled at the guard. He threw me out of the bus angrily. As I landed in the mud the guards cackled evily. They'll see what I have in store.
