Wrongly Accused {Slow updates}

Chapter 9

I stare at myself in the mirror. A slouched pathetic loser who has no family and no one in her life. Her options are be homeless on the streets or work with a bunch of criminals. I stare at myself, hating my life and question how much it would hurt to kill myself. I don't cry, I don't whimper. I just stare at myself with a dead look. I'm already dead on the inside. Why not just finish me off for good? Someone opens the door to my room and inturrupts my thoughts on suicide and life. I shift my dead gaze to him, not bothering to turn around. I can see him clearly in the mirror. It's the Jeff guy.

"Alexandra.. Are you ok?" His voice surprisingly gentle.

"It's Alex." My voice is monotone.

"Sorry Alexan- I mean Alex. But you didn't answer my question, are you ok?" He walks in and closes the door. His face changes from a confused face to a worried one.

"Yeah.. Perfect. My families disowned me, I have no friends anymore, no life. My options are be homeless or help out a bunch of criminals." I don't bother saying no offense because it's true. They are nothing but criminals.

"You know we are just like you right? Most of us were just at the wrong place at the wrong time. You don't know our stories. But yeah. We are JUST criminals. We became what they said we were." Jeff looks hurt and I suddenly feel bad for judging them all so quickly. "Look are you good? Cause we need to get to training."

I finally turn around to face him. "No. I'm not fine, but let's go.." We both stand up. Jeff gets to the door first and opens it for me. He really seemed to be a sweet guy. I wonder to myself puzzling over the fact that this guy is a criminal. Or was a criminal. I can not figure out what he would've been in jail for.

We walk into yet another big huge room. Except this one isn't a bedroom. It's got a boxing ring in the corner by the door, punching bags on one side of the wall. On the wall farthest away from us targets with guns on a table in the center of the room. I should really say it was a room. It was more of like a giant warehouse type room. I look around some more. There's also a station with knives and targets. I can see the slash marks from where people have missed. I walk over and examine the knives more closely. I pick on up and weigh it in my palm. In one swift movement I pulled my arm back and threw it. I haven't lost it. I smile a little when I see that my knife has hit the middle of the target. I hear clapping and I turn around embarrassed. A guy with bubblegum pink hair is standing there clapping and smiling in amazement. He walks over.

"Hey! Your the only person besides Christian who has ever hit the middle!"

"Um.." I stand there awkwardly. This guy smells amazing. I stare wide eyed at his perfect skin and dark brown eyes.

"Oh! I and being so rude, please forgive me. I'm Leon. I'm in explosives." He sticks his hand out for a handshake but I ignore it.

"I'm Alex.." I spy Jeff in the corner leaning on a punching bag. "Um excuse me." I bow my head and run over to where Jeff is. Even tho I don't really know him, I'd rather be with him than pink haired Leon.

"Um jeff?"

"Yeah?"

"What's with that guys pink hair?"

"He had a younger sister who died from breast cancer a few years back. Before he went on this mad streak and assulted some police officer, he dyes his hair pink in remembrance of her."

"Oh.." I suddenly feel bad for judging him. I don't have time to feel bad for long though because Christian came in and had us start training. We climbed ropes, shot guns, boxed in the boxing ring, punched the punching bags, threw the knives, and did a bunch of conditioning stuff that made me feel like I was going to die. No need to kill myself when Christian could do it for me.