Blah blah blah. I know your not supposed to put stories here. While my email to ATA is pending, Fan Fiction has been taken over by RPs and threads with titles like 'djdjsowjdjw'. Not cool -.-' so those of us who work are shoved back from the front page and people have to dig for updated versions. Anyways I wrote a story for yinz. Enjoy. I write from Cay-mo's view and my friend does Sha's. :3 Leave comments below. --- Chapter One Cay-Mo I dig my filthy toes through the layers of dust on my cell floor. The heat feels like a curtain this late in July. The time of year when me and Panda move as little as possible. Her name really isn't Panda, but the name is given due to her patchy colored hair. Black and blonde, neat circles dyed all over. They call me Cay-Mo. Say I could sneak-out as easily as I snuck in. It's true too, I snuck INTO jail break out who amounted to a friend at the time. When I arrived, Jayden had been moved to a mental aslym halfway across the world. The moment I got in a rail-thin guard with a lisp grabbed my arms. Next thing I knew, I was scrubbed, my punk hair colors gone, curled up in a ball, and wearing all grey clothes. "Panda," I grumble through cracked lips. "What," She mutters, still asleep. That's all she does in summer, sleep. "Nothing," I say and consider sleeping naked. I could always leave my "dorm" as they call it. (Really, it's more of a cell surrounded by other cells and a clearing that passes for a common room in the middle. Oh, and NONE of it's air conditioned, even the guards complain.) But if I were to, there's nothing to do. We have one computer that has dial up Internet that works only on Fridays between five pm and midnight. The rest of the time we can play games at the speed of a snail's pace. Or I can enlist people for a foosball tournament, or make another hackey sack. Truthfully, we rarely do anything but school during the rest of the year. Once a month all fifteen of us get together and tell stories we've all heard twelve times at least. I get up and pull my shoes off, use a ratty hair tie to pull my hair back and manage a cocky saunter into the Meeting Area. Sha is sitting on the couch with a ball of tape in her hands. A huge dark skinned man in a suit stands behind her and to the left. His eyes watch her every movement. Sha is new and no one knows her story, she seems to never talk. The one time I did she started cackling madly and her guard in the business suit dragged her off. I drag my feet, acting cool and uncaring as I plop down next to her. Sha The girl with grey clothes tried to talk to me again. Her voice is dry and amusing, making my mind go wild. My laugh, the cackling screech, scared her and soon I was being dragged away by Guard. Guard, I don't know his real name so that's what I call him. Once my laughter stopped and I realized I had ended back up in the empty cell, I began to rattle the bars of my cage. I don't yell or scream, just shake the bars back and forth. I considered screaming once, but then they would put me back in the asylum. That horrible place they sentenced me to when I bit my cellmate's finger off. My bright red hair hung in my eyes. They had tried to scrub the red out only to find it was the true color of my hair. Guard had appeared again. He stood looming over me on the other side of bars. "Ready to come out?" he asks in his deep grumbly voice. I nod my head and he opens the door. As I walk down the hall, my feet slap against the ground. She is still on the couch in the Meeting Area. I stare at her, trying to figure out why she was here. I was here because I had savagely killed my brother after he had destroyed my Beary Bear. She looked like the kind that would've sold pot on the street or maybe robbed someone. Unlike me, she looked like the convict kind. Punkish, while I could've passed for a sweet, innocent teenager. Drops of sweat collected on her forehead. Her grey eyes stared back at me and I realized I had been standing there for a while. I looked away and she resumed sewing up what looked like a hackey sack. Beside her sat my tape. I crouched behind the other side of the couch. She looked at me like I was crazy, which I kind of was. I watched her pick up the tape and move it further away from her, towards me. I glanced between her and the tape. I lunged for the tape and then made a mad dash to the corner of the room. Cay-Mo I watch the thin, sweet faced girl retreat to the corner with the tape. It's not surprising she's thin, we all are. New Mexico Youth Jail isn't exactly known for its edible food. She seems skittish, too skittish to simply be a prisoner here. "She came from Greenland's Mental Institute," the deep voice startles me and I turn around slowly so I'm face-to-face with Fresco. Fresco is the only male here over twelve that's worth talking to. His face is constantly animated with whatever tale he's spinning and his eyes dance with mischief. I squint in the fake lighting. "How ya know that," I ask hand on my hip, wanting the truth yet wanting him to spin a tale for me. He gets closer so he can whisper in my ear. "I hacked the files, why else do you think I lost my computer privileges? Oh, and I got hold of some Snickers bars in my last care package... and a really ancient AAR disk. Grab Panda and come by." He pulls away with a killer grin that tells me he clearly found more on our project. I nod and skip fairly happy to my cell. "PANDA GET YOUR ASS UP NOW!!!!" I yell, digging for my coveted CD player, hoping the batteries will hold for an hour or two. "I don't... wanna," She says between yawns and throwing her arms up at something she's fighting in her drowsiness.