Roses in Winter

Chapter 1

Chapter 1:

"Wake up losers! New day, same routine," Marlie yells, she's the Chancellor's daughter. Annoying as ever, and always smacking that bubblegum of hers. Like mother like daughter, I guess. After banging my cell with her bat one more time, I get off my bed and take two steps towards my sink.

The cell's here are all the same, 15'15. Your bed takes 50% of the room which leaves you a small area for your dresser, sink, and toilet.

Grabbing my used toothbrush, I slap some toothpaste on it and start to brush my teeth while singing my ABC's. I've been here for about fourteen and a half years, I've been twenty-eight since October 11th, which was last week. I have a stack of old calendars on top of my dresser, it's good to keep up to date.

In just eight days from now, I will go to court and plead my case. The fifth time since my trial. They do it every two and a half years or bout' that time.

Spitting out the toothpaste, I pull my red hair into a bun using my elastic that took me a hell long of a time to get here after all the safety measures; it took six months and in the end they found that I couldn't kill anyone with it.

It's funny really my name is Rose Winter, my hair the same as the color of a red rose and my skin as pale as winter.

People call me the "devil's child" because a thirteen year old girl had to have pulled out a gun and started killing two-thousand people. Let's not forget all the metal detectors that were there, of course only a young girl who knows nothing about weapons could be the only one that has snuck one in.

No one was on my side. The only evidence was a note that had my name on it. I tried to plead my case; by myself, may I add, but just ended up embarrassing myself in front of the laughing judge.

I had no lawyer, no nothing. There were about 5,000 people that attended, 100 million or more that was watching on tv.

So while I was locked up in here I came to a conclusion; I will never be let out.

So I have to escape.

...

Grabbing my tray I fill my plate with oatmeal that had strawberries in it and some orange juice.

The cafeteria is as pretty as it gets, with plain white walls and tables that go for miles, and guards watching over us at the top floor right above us. Safety proof glass protecting them from any harm. By that I mean getting food thrown at them.

There was a huge food fight a few years ago, of course when It started I got out of there but I was there long enough to see sloppy joes flying in the air and guards yelling and screaming. You can say it was a very eventful day; 10 whips to the back to whoever started it.

I somehow was included in that list...

Seating at my usual seat by the window, I stare outside and watch the snow plow down. Counting every snowflake I see to pass my time. It's been so long since I've made a snow angel.

"Oh Winterrr," Kabby sings. Setting her tray by mine, filled to the top with the oatmeal. I eye it warily while looking between her and the food.

She is as thin as a pencil, it's like all the food she eats goes nowhere. Her small frame, and big blue eyes make her seem so innocent. To be truthful even I at first thought so too. Kabby was part of a mass murder back in 1983, killed around five hundred people in L.A at a casino.

Landed up in here instead of a prison cell because she was diagnosed as a schizophrenic.

"Hey Kabbs," I mutter taking my spoon and scooping some of the strawberries out of the oatmeal. "Anything that I missed when I was in therapy?" She asked.