Snippet #1531591

Ivory Brand

Ivory looked at her surroundings. The interior of van with other kids handcuffed like her. Her eyelids were falling down but she tried her best to keep them open. Moving strands of her black hair away from her face she sighed. The state thinks they can make a few teens from murderers to decent functioning members of society. "Please, give me a break!" she mouthed. The van held a steady pace and there wasn't much to do but wait and wait and wait until they arrived at the asylum. It wouldn't be so bad, she thought bitterly. "They won't let me have a bottle," she mouthed again as the words refused to come out from her lips.
I'm a murderer, her ego sang with a birds song. "Lucky me, she mouthed and leaned her head back as the vehicle motioned to a stop. The doors opened and light touched her eyes. Squinting she grunted in annoyance. She was one of the last to step out. Trying to ignore the metal on her wrists she examined the place that would fix her up. "You're all wasting your time," she told the people who came up to them. She wasn't afraid of any of them. Her face was molded into a case of emotionless cement. Serious should be her new name. They wouldn't let her smoke, drink, or have anything here so they didn't need to worry about her harming anyone. It was really only when she drank.
She looked straight into the doctors eyes. The hollow orbs distanced as if to look beyond the figure. "Do you reall think you can FIX us? All of us?" She made a motion to mention all six out them standing, handcuffed like criminals, like vicious animals waiting to attack at the first hint of weakness.