Well, this sucked ass.


She had finally been caught. Big fuckin' whoop. She knew it was bound to happen some time along, hadn't been careful in wiping her trail clean. Whatever, not like her life ever meant something. Funny thing, life was, to some it meant the world, to others it meant nothing at all. Rolling her dark eyes she shifted in her stance, her hands resting inside her pockets, the cool metal of her knife slick against her slender fingers. It had quite amazed her that they had actually not found it, maybe because she didn't let them touch her, but still... it made her question the security of the dump. A few bags lay at her feet, torn and damaged the long ride hadn't helped in their appearance much, but it was better then the plastic bags she had been offered.

Dressed in a pair of skin tight jeans, she stood defensively, not that she was scared, she just wasn't a people person. All experiences with their kind had lead her to bad things, take murder for example, or perhaps assault is a softer term. Whatever you choose any experience usually ended with the injury of death of a person. Skates shoes covered her small feet, a few unrecognizable stains on the toes, a deep red color didn't really stand out from the black fabric, but no one had to know what they were for. Another tight article of clothing covered her torso, a long sleeved shirt, she never wore anything with short sleeves. They hid her past, scars, and the thin arms. A vest was over the shirt, completing her outfit, not much but it made a statement, just as guard dogs did.

Her face was rather pale, but not sickeningly so, just more so then the other bitches wandering this hellhole. A nasty bruise covered her right eye, a red cut ran down her cheek. Some fag had taken her down a week before, the bitch had gotten her sent here. Maybe if she hadn't attacked that hospital worker she wouldn't be here, but hell, that was in the past. Hair tied in a loose pony tail fell about her face, a cascade of brunette loops, partially hidden by a black ski hat, her brother had given it to her years ago, something she'd never let go. Turning her attention away from the closing gates, she glanced about the asylum, smiling at it's 'cheerfulness'. Her smile was not a smile though, it gave an almost eerie look to her face, as if she was not supposed to, perhaps the reason for why she did so, but what ever the reason, it was not a kind smile.

Well, this is fuckin' stupid.....

She muttered the words aloud, to no one in particular, save the guard that stood by her. Having half a mind to slit his throat she had long since decided against it, might be a bad entrance if she was ever to get out of here. He had been an ass to her on the bus, shoved her around like she was a worthless piece of shit, which she wasn't. Rolling her dark eyes at the guard she reluctantly followed him towards the prison, probably stay there over night seeing as she had 'violent tendencies', what ever that was. So what she had an anger problem, big deal, after all the shit she went through she had to right to be fuckin angry. Eyes were lowered slightly as she followed the guard, but were caught on an older teen. Looked like a new kid, like herself, but she was never one to meet others with great introductions. The teen almost laughed as he was knocked to the ground by a few guards, unsurprisingly he didn't give up much of a fight. Probably just another wanna-be street thug who tried a few kinky moves and got caught doing so. She smiled, passing the older teen, into another room, just for the night the guard had said, it would be even less then that. It would only take a few moments to pick the lock or figure some other way, she never really enjoyed the cells much.

Dropping her shit on the ground she eyed the steel trap she was in. A simple bolt and lock door, this would be too easy. The number of times she had escaped from these type of bolt. Was rather easy really, just a few seconds of picking, it usually slipped right open. She gave a slight sigh and wandered around the room for a moment, waiting for the guard to move far enough away. Dark eyes caught once more on the teen, punk ass loser, the thought crossed her mind. Couldn't even get himself out of the handcuff, besides that he had actually let the fuckin' guards catch him. The wimp had been knocked to the ground, maybe he had just been in the wrong place at the wrong time, but she seriously doubted that. Deciding to wait a few more minutes before trying to pick the lock she leaned against the cool wall and watched with a bored interest.

Reaching up towards her face she grimaced slightly as her slim fingers gently touched the large bruise over her right eye, pulling her fingers away before they had a chance to skim the large cut on the side of her face. Not the best look, she could easily pull it off considering her clothing, but she had looked much worse before in the past. Arm fell back to her side as eyes continued to watch the teen, nearly dislocated his shoulders, but no pain no gain as they say. After the kid had gotten his arms in front of his frame she stood up from the wall, rolling her eyes just once as he spoke. Had he even tried to pick the hand cuff himself, or was he smarted then she had pegged him to be. Probably a mix of both.

Just cause i'm a girl that makes you think I got a fuckin' bobby pin? Shit, I'd be less surprised to see you with a couple of those then me.

She paused, letting her words settle in the musty air. Slightly harsh, but ice cold. She hated those who though that a girl couldn't stand up to others, bugged the hell outta her. A lot of things seemed to do this, but maybe that was just her anger problem.

But whatever yea I've got something.

She rummaged through one of the bags and pulled out a small pick, she had lifted if off a repair man years ago. Had proved it's worth, but on more then one occasion she had forgotten it and had to return. Walking over she dropped it on the ground before the older teen then walked back, flipping out the knife from her pocket. A bad habit she had, usually played with 'weapons' when she was bored... or annoyed, really depended on the mood. Returning to lean on the wall she flipped the blade in and out of it's leather sheath, the dull metal shining slightly with the bad lighting.

The teen rolled her eyes slightly from her position on the wall, the blade of the knife easily passing over his slim fingers. A bored look upon her features she tossed the blade up in the air, it's dull shine spinning as if fall back to earth, caught between the teen's fingers. Her hand clenched around the leather handle before tossing it up once more into the air. Taking her eyes from the blade she glanced towards the teen, a smile crept across her face as he threw her pick, missing his target. So his aim was as bad as his crimes? Probably his aim was worse, she doubted he had ever done much, save a few mental problems. She stood up from the wall and walked towards the punk, the knife blade held loosely in her left hand, not like she was planning to use it or anything. At his words she gave another smile, creeping across her features, causing her face to reflect hate, anger, and a twinge of amusement. Words never truly meant anything to her, yet she had often been told she had a knack for sarcasm.

Call me a whore, bug fuckin deal, call me a c*nt while you're at it. Shit I don't give a damn what the hell you call me. But if I'm a whore then I guess that means...... you're a.... fag?

She smiled slightly once more then bent down and grabbed up the pick, standing she stared into the teen's eyes, a cold hard stare daring him to look away, to back down, to admit defeat.

Oh yea and while you're at it, might want to practice your aim, you ain't worth shit if you can't shoot.

She turned away after a few moments and stuffed the pick back into her pile of luggage. Nothing she really needed, just forgotten promises, broken hearts, battered minds. Her fucking father had caused this, if it hadn't been for him maybe she wouldn't even be in this dump, maybe she'd be free on the streets, where she belonged. Unlike most of the creeps who had been dumped in the jail, she did not have an inner voice telling her what to do. She had never listened to anyone save herself, no voice told her what she should do, who she should kill. She did that herself. She had decided to attack all those so called innocent people, the civilians, the police said she had no motive, couldn't find one. But they had been asking for it, each one who looked at her funny were asking for a death sentence. No it was not motive, it was justice. She had always been treated like shit, maybe this was her way of rebelling and telling the world she was not trash, she was something they should fear.

Fear they had. She had become almost uncontrollable. Members wouldn't dare look into her eyes, at sixteen she was feared, she had rule, she had control. Save times she had gotten herself in juvie and then this dump. Whatever. Turning her thoughts away from her past she turned back to the teen. Asshole, she thought.