Poetry, A Rap, And Other Tomfoolery

Escape (Dave x Rebellious! Reader)

***Add this to the list of things I start but never finish. 

And probably never will.***

You... Were hard to get close to.

'FLASH!'

In fact, for almost everyone, it was nearly impossible.

'FLASH!'

Nobody cared about you, or so you liked to think.

"Turn to your left!" The command was harshly given, and you did as you were told with a crooked grin.

So why should you have cared about what happened to you?

'FLASH!'

'There are some things more frightening than death.'

You had always thought you'd look good in prison clothes. You'd always wondered what it was like, living a life either on the run, or behind metal bars in near isolation. You wanted that excitement. You wanted to feel something other than what your life offered you. You knew that if you didn't distract yourself somehow, the memories and the pain would come back. You didn't want to deal with that. Getting in trouble was the only way you'd learned to cope.

You observed your surroundings cautiously, noticing the way the colors of the room were white. Simple. The floors were made out of granite, however. A rather expensive choice for flooring, especially that of a police station. You watched as men scurried about the room in their little uniforms, trying to seem important. Trying to seem like all of this mattered to them. One of them, a rather sullen looking man, walked up to you and grabbed you by the arm. His grip was painful, but you didn't let that affect you. You sighed in boredom.

You honestly didn't see why you were being taken into custody – not that it bothered you. Really, all you'd done was get into a fight on the streets. Some guy wanted to sell you drugs. He looked pretty shady. He was tall and had three scars running across the entirety of his face, a wide grin plastered onto said creepy-as-f*ck face. You didn't get into drugs, or even alcohol. You didn't like what they did to you, or how you felt afterwards. You got your rush from dangerous thrills, not substances that made you less aware of your surroundings. You wanted an escape from reality, not an escape from yourself.