The Different

Chapter One

She could hear the prison's alarms blaring throught the building as she ran down the empty hallway. This was her thrid prison, and probably not her last. She didn't really remember why she was there, probably for cometting a small crime. But when she thought what ever she did was a small crime, the humans always made some big deal about it. Sure, she had been raised by the odd creatures, but that didn't mean that she had to follow their rules. She had her own rules. Rules that involved getting rid of anyone that gets in her way.

Suddenly, she stopped. She heard a noise. A small click. The small click of a gun. The young girl looked around frantically, but she knew the noise was not even close to her. The noise was far away. The noise had come from the first section of the building. And she was in the third section.

She had hoped that she would not have to use violence, but she had to. There was another option. A option the girl had never done. One she dispised. She could also give up. But then, she would be in a nasty, old, wet cell. The young girl did not want to hurt anyonethis time, for she would be a even more wanted criminal.

She sighed, and whispered, "Fine. I give up."

The girl felt weak. She thought she was weak. She knew she was weak-

Caribbean awoke with a start, dripping in sweat, along with a nasty headache. It was the fith time she had had this dream,and groaned. Today was the day. Today was the day she would return to them. Caribbean would return to the people that had lied to her for fourteen years.

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Caribbean was getting annoyed. She was taking a bus to Denver, Colorado. Behind her, a young couple sat, along with their baby. The baby had been crying since they had gotten onto the bus.

Just as she was about to turn around and tell the couple to shut the small bundle up, the train stopped. And so did the baby's crying.

"Thank god!" Caribbean said, as she started to get up. She walked to the front of the bus.

She stopped to look at the couple, "Oh, and by the way, try feeding it some actual food. Not any of that crap, from the stores, you call baby food. Try mashing up some fruits. Yourself."

Caribbean received a glare from the mother, and a low growl from the father. And with that, she hopped out of the small bus with a chuckle.

She knew what was wrong with the baby ever since it had gotten on the train. She could've told the couple what they needed to do. But she didn't. After all, where was the fun in that?