An ill mouthed girl with a fiery temper and bad attitude comes across a blonde headed stranger in her bed whilst covered in something strange. His friends are just like brothers and family soon becomes a tight nation to them all as Sloan grows close...
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Slash
I have to say, the feeling of the cuffs securing my wrists together was growing on me. It was tightly bounding the skin into a bruise, two circular and purple rings surrounding the surface beneath as I presumed the same could be accounted for my ankles as we all piled onto the bus, each chained down individually with nothing but a window to stare out of and a menacing partner sitting beside me. Each member held one of three facial expressions; a nervous wreck - the newbies with no jail experience - or a calm and natural composure, with the feel that they'd been before - much like myself - and then the face of boredom, as though some had visited too many times to count and find liberating anymore.
I couldn't deny that the blurred scenery was a beautiful sight to behold as we sped on through the twisting country roads. It was the most green I'd viewed since England at the age of four - which was totally boring and money consuming - to which I refused to do ever again. Only as I grew a little older - around fifteen - and visited my father, I wandered along the greenery then. But the area was so down ridden and polluted, the green was littered with trash and scorched cans, that I wouldn't really count it as a country-side kind of adventure.
I recalled the very first time Steven had influenced me to bunk a class, the anxious pounding in my chest and unsteady breathing. How even the weed we smoked and the booze we drank didn't rid the paranoia swimming through every subtle movement. But that all soon faded the more we did it, and I found myself a trouble junkie; always scouting for mischief and mayhem. I grew reckless and hungry for destruction, just like Stevie, but my parents were a little cooler than his and I wasn't shipped away as a result of my actions. Though my heart did still pound at the sound of an angered authoritive tone, which was slightly ironic; considering the fact that I was utterly calm within the walls of this bus, on my way to a Prison with a two grand-totally-unaffordable bail. I had a two month sentence, which wasn't at all bad, with the chance of parole after a few weeks. But considering my record, the Judge was adamant it wouldn't happen. Then I lost my rag a little and told him to 'fuck off' which didn't settle well with anyone but myself.
Personally, I'd say I looked pretty fucking good in the jumpsuit. Orange was one of my colors - really brought out my eyes. But the shivering and sniffling and sweating seemed to piss off my partner so greatly, I doubt he gave a shit about the orange and how it complimented the brown of my orbs. I smelled, too. Real bad. I hadn't had a proper shower in days - not that I really cared - and my hair was greasy and I felt like complete shit. But maybe that was just the smack talking. Maybe I'd finally get off it and Sloan could stop worrying her pretty little ass about how I was all the damned time.
We slowly pulled into the gates and surrounding the overly-large fence was hundreds of criminals, watching with beady and eager eyes as a few yelled out inaudible cat-calls. This was by far the most daunting and horrible part of entering a Jail, but it was over soon enough and the inmates didn't really give you a rough time for anything. Unless you cried - then, they ripped you to shreds. And I almost pitied the kid - who wasn't all that much younger than me - who was sniffling and sobbing uncontrollably. I wanted to tap him on the shoulder and tell him to pull himself together, to toughen up and stop being a pussy. But I'd rather him be beat by a criminal than myself by a cop. So I remained silent and only shook my head, jolting forward slightly as the bus stopped abruptly.
