Green eyes, red hair, short skirt. When you're sixteen, pretty, and carefree of what your parents think, you do random things. That's what Sara is.
Drugs, Drinks, and Boys. She loved boys. Tall boys and small boys and skinny boys and fat boys, just boys. She would love a new one each week and kiss a new one everyday. She would bat her eyes and put on lots of make up for them, anything to make them feel better. That's how she met the man.
He at the club she had snuck into. She was drinking a margarita and he came over. Her head was all fogged up so she agreed to go home with him. That's when he drugged her and told her. "I hope you live." His voice was raspy and old. Then, It was black.
She woke up in the room with the others.
She needed out of this place, NOW.
But it was too late, she was a failure.
BOOM
Gunshot and Gone.
