Desolation row

I walked to the edge of the cracked side walk.CAMP SUNROCK! I looked at the Pamphlet again. First if all what the fuck? SUNROCK? It had a picture of smiling teens swimming, smiling teens eating, smiling teens sitting by a bonfire. Teens don't fucking smile that much. And all the smiling doesn't distract me from the small print at the bottom of the page: for troubled teens 12-17. It's better than to group home.
I'm getting kicked out again. I overheard a conversation between the head of the group home, jay, and the head of camp " no I just can't take her anymore... Are you sure?... I doubt even juvie would want her... Ok thanks bye now" and that's why I'm standing on the side of the road with a poop-colored duffle bag in one hand and my iPod in the other. A bus filled with kids pulled up.
" Bye ramona! Have fun!" Jay forced a smile and waved. I flipped him off and climbed onto the bus. The bus driver was smoking and had a shit ton of tattoos. He looked like the type of person your mom would tell you to stay away from as a kid. I smiled he nodded. I walked straight to the back. I sat in the very back against the window. The kid who sat across from me was eyeing me.
"the duck do you want?" I glared at him. He was short with dark brown hair hanging over his eyes. His lip and nose wee pierced. He had several tattoos on his arms and hands as well as a few on his neck. He was about my age.
"your new here right, Hun?" He smiled and yanked out an earbud.
"and not one to be messed with so watch your moth jack off" I looked him dead in the eye. I've been to places like this before. I know how it works show no weaknesses. They are all Piranhas.
"I'm sure you don't want to see that sweetheart," the guy smirked, " names frank iero, third year," he extended his hand. I shook it.
" Does this lovely piece of work have a name?" This guy is just testing his luck.
" I wouldn't be talking, your here too," I said.
" yes but not with a record like yours. What's this? 13 group homes twice in juvie. The first time in fifth grade for setting a fire in the classroom. The second time for beating up another foster kid. Oh no no not with a record like yours." Frank said flipping through a red folder with a neat sticker with my name on it.
" How the hell did you get that," I said trying to show as little emotion as possible.
" See my hobbies include but are not limited to, pick pocketing, playing guitar, picking locks, and having highly satisfying sexual interactions with members of the opposite sex." Frank winked
" so thats how who got here," I said
" no," frank laughed, " no having sex is not how I got here,"
fucking asshat.
" No shithead the picking," I said glaring at the punk.
" Oh year the local liquor store was starting notice some one was breaking in so they set up cameras. I got sloppy and it was this or juvie." Frank yawned, out stretching his arms. I grabbed the folder out of his hands quickly and threw it out of the window of the moving bus.
"I already read it Hun" frank winked again. I have a really fucked up past that I don't want this asshole knowing about, that landed me in group homes and shit like that. Like my dad and uncle.
" don't worry sweetie I won't tell anyone," frank said placing his earbud in his ear again. He seemed bored gently tapping his foot against the stained flooring the bus.
i put in my own earbuds. I really hate pet names. They remind me of my father.
" it'll only hurt a little bit sweetie"
" promise not to tell anyone honey"
"daddy would never do anything to hurt you princess"
I shivered. I tried to focus on the music. Ahh greenday... Everyone is so full of shit born and raised hypocrites...
the bus is slowly filling up. Every once and a while I look up from my iPod. The only person who looks remotely interesting is the guy who sat next to frank. He has a Afro.
" Sweetheart I hate to break it to you but your in my seat."

Notes

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