The Evening Street : RADIODUST

11: Scraped Knees - 1 :Draft:

A/N: Look whose back from the dead! (I'm still not fully alive yet. I am suffering). Life got in the way! A lot of crazy stuff happened. Writing quality kinda went downhill, but once I finished act 1. All of this stuff will be revised and fortified. By the way Act 1 is all about the buildup... 

:) Also sorry for kinda being dead will try updating but we will see

NOTE TO SELF: REMOVE PODCAST NOTES IN THIS CHAPTER FOR IT FEELS UNECESSARY

.... 1200

Jail cells with rusten iron and concrete lined the walls. Women, teenagers and girls, cried out and groaned. Their pleas for help fell on deaf's ears. Guards stood stoic and unmoving, while Velvet, the orchestrator of this cupcake factory, skipped through the halls. Her bell-shaped skirt, filled with frills and cute bows, swayed to each step.

"Good Morning~" Velvet said.

"Good Morning," the guards replied in unison. Velvet halted and turned to the poor Guard beside the cell marked 23.

"Good Morning Sebastian!"

The guard flinched, dipping his head down.

Velvet clicked her tongue,"Sebastian, this isn't an office chillax bae. This is my happy place, my safe place! You are safe, Okay? And Bae, Could you let the Mrs. Lottie know that the girls from 20 to 30 need to be washed please? They stink for realsies."

The guard nodded, swallowing. Although Velvet was barely average height, every once in a while Velvet would do a visual demonstration of her skills on any guard who dared to betray her. Those dainty hands smeared with lotion were a lot stronger than they appeared.

Velvet continued walking to the very back of the hall, heels clacking. She took the silver keys out from her pocket and jingled them. The little clink clink repeated until Velvet stopped right at the last cell.

Here behind bars, were children of seven to nine, babbling, talking and playing with toys. Some of the children were not so happy, smeared tears on their cheeks, but not outright crying. Crying was bad. Crying children got drugged.

Standing in the shadows, Velvet twisted the keys in the lock. The iron door creaked open and the children, once distracted with the toys and each other, hurriedly lined up against the wall, heads down. Some children were too young or stupid to understand, sticking to their spots with sloppy saliva and chewed plastic toys.

Velvet smiled warmly. She reached out, squeezing many chubby cheeks of oblivious children who did not move out of her way. She awed and cooed.

"Cutie" and "Sweetie" were Velvet's go-to words when addressing any child she pinched. She did not bother the quiet children who stood to the sides with their eyes looking at the ground.

Today Velvet was not interested in trouble. She had better things to do which was to check on her prized possession.

The girl Velvet was looking for stood at the very back of the cell, head held high. This important gem was valuable, she did so much. Black , bordering brown, eyes stared directly at Velvet, unflinching. This little girl, blonde hair in a braid, had a determined look on her face. Her arms were crossed.

"Dame!" the girl squeaked.

"Awe. Haven't I told you that you remind me so much of my daughter?" Velvet said. Her voice was melodic, deeper, unlike the nasally tone she always spoke.

Velvet crouched to meet the girl's glare, staring eye to eye.

"Dame, écoutez-moi. Je suis fâchée avec toi!" The girl continued, voice strong, never wavering. Velvet's hand reached out and began to pet the blonde hair.