Clichés In the Dark Past {FIN}[Editing]

Chapter Seventeen.

Beyoncé's P.O.V.

The doors to the elevator opened, and we stepped out onto the floor, my heels clacking. Jay and I immediately shot our guns into the air, sending the customers and workers in the bank to the floor, trying to avoid getting hit by a bullet. I glanced at my gold Michael Kors watch and turned to Shawn.

"4 minutes and 12 seconds left, baby," I whispered, and he headed behind the bank counter, towards the second bank vault. I also hopped up onto the counter and looked down at the terrorized citizens, pushing away any feelings of guilt that consumed me. "ALRIGHT EVERYONE ON THE FLOOR AND SHUT THE HELL UP!" They all did as instructed and I kept my gun pointed out at them, in case I had to shoot those who resisted. Scanning the crowd, I noticed a man on the floor, attempting to hide the phone he was using to dial, probably the police. I instantly jumped down and stormed over to where he crouched on the ground. "Don't try to be a mutherfuckin' hero. Hand it over now!" I felt the cold device slam into my palm and I walked away satisfied. Jay was pushing the cash into duffel bags, and he still had another bag to fill.

"Justice will be served to you two! You can't keep terrorizing America!" My head whipped back around and I looked to see the same man who had the phone, standing up, trying to make a stand.

"You think I want to do this? Was justice served for my cousin? Was justice served for my fiancé's uncle? No. America brought this on themselves. Now stop testing my patience right now and get on the godddamned floor." I glanced down at my watch and signaled Jay 2, as in we have 2 minutes to get the money and get out of here before the police will show up.

"Please just leave us alone!" I rolled my eyes and prepared to respond but an elderly woman, who was probably a bank teller, spoke.

"Sir, please just get on the floor and be quiet."

"You better listen to your granny over there." He remained standing.

"Who ar-" I aimed the gun at his head, and shot the bullet straight through, as blood splattered over my white ensemble.

"UNLESS YOU WANT TO END UP LIKE HIM, I SUGGEST YOU SHUT UP AND DO AS WE SAY!" No one spoke or stood, fearing for their lives. Jay jumped over the counter and motioned me over.

"Let's get out of here." I placed my hand in his and we ran outside, but instead of being able to hop into our Camaro, there were police cars everywhere, flashing lights, and helicopters buzzing over our heads.

"PUT YOUR HANDS IN THE AIR AND DROP YOUR WEAPONS AND THE MONEY." A tear escaped my eye as I tried to shoot, but was soon restricted by an officer and forced into handcuffs. That broke me. I sobbed hard, reaching for Shawn, but not able to reach him or touch him, considering we were both in handcuffs and being pushed away to seperate police cars.

"NO! I WANT MY LOVE, PLEASE DON'T SEPERATE ME FROM HIM! PLEASE," I sobbed and pleaded, at least hoping they would let me see him before we were forced apart.

"I LOVE YOU, BEY!" I turned to see him, but an officer had already placed a hand on top of his head and forced him down into the car.

"I LOVE YOU SHAWN!" I screamed back, crying harder than ever.

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I stood in front of the one way glass, holding the board with my prison number on it, in the middle of two other women. One a prostitute, the other I'm not sure.

"Right." The sound omitted through the speaker and we turned to the right, giving them a side profile of us. "Left." Turn. "Front." We faced front and I glared at the glass, tipping my head to the side with a scowl. Soon, the door opened and I was forced to place my fingers into ink for finger prints. Afterwards, I sighed, and sat quietly, out of tears to cry anymore. They handed me a bright orange jumpsuit before ushering us into a bathroom, which was heavily guarded, to change. I looked down at my suit that was covered in blood and sighed before stripping myself of it and into the jumpsuit, leaving on my white lace undergarments. I walked out of the stall and to the sink, handed the lady my clothes, and washed my hands. Looking in the mirror, and I cried, seeing my reflection. My lip busted and my blonde bangs tousled around. The ugly orange jumpsuit made me look washed out. Deep down I knew it would end this way. Jail or death. At this point, it'll probably be jail and death. I splashed the cold water on my face and wiped away at it with my hands. On the way out, I turned to the guard,

"Will I be able to see him?" She sighed.

"At this point, probably not until trial, Bonnie." I rolled my eyes and walked out. Smart ass guard. Fat broad.

Then, we were lead to our cells, moolight seeping through the bars of the window.

"Go to sleep, ladies. If we find out you're up, there are consequences." I looked at the girl who sat on the bottom bunk, leaving me with the top one,

"What are you in for?" I asked. She laid back on the pillow and shook her head.

"I had ran over someone and killed them, but I didn't stop. It was an accident, but they said it was murder because I didn't stop. Then I got out on paroll, and I told the officer I was going to Chicago to visit my son, he's 5. The officer said I didn't tell him, so they called it violation of paroll. So here I am. Back in prison. What about you? Wait.... Aren't you the modern day Bonnie and Clyde? Well, I mean, now just Bonnie." I sighed and climbed the ladder to the top bunk and laid down on the cold metal bed.

"Yeah, if that's what they call us."

"Oh, that's cool. I mean, not cool that you're here, but you know, that we're bunkmates. Maybe we coul-"

"I'm really tired. We can talk tomorrow."

"Oh. Okay." I laid there and cried silently all night. I want Shawn. I told him this would happen to us. I knew it. I was along for the ride and now we had arrived at our destination. Hell on Earth.

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A/N

"Oh shit, Maia how are they gonna get out" HAHA not telling you. They might not even get out. But anyways. Did you like it? Were you shocked? Oh and do you want me to publish the little quick story? Tell meeeee. Vote, Comment, etc. Thanks fo reading!

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