Author's note: I admit, this is my first story and you can probably tell by my poor writing skills. Well, I hated how Marvin died so I've decided to make myself a little Mary Jane and fix it just for the hell of it. Enjoy. Reviews are always loved.
Here I was sitting in a damp and moldy cell once again. I haven't moved in days, I swear I've turned into a vegetable. Nothing on my mind but the satisfaction of revenge.
I can't help but stare out my window. God I hate how they block the perfect moon light with the lined shadow of bars. But I guess it's fine now, I don't give a damn. Death is just a few days away and I can't wait for my last meal, I'm starved. Prison food can't even keep a mouse alive.
Something's strange about tonight, something's out of place. Maybe it's just me since I haven't taken my medication in days. A familiar sound hits my ear drums. A smack then a thud, yup the sound of a body hitting the ground. Now dragging? No screams, or cries for help. Someone is here that shouldn't be. The tap of hard soled shoes and the rattle of keys coming down the hall, I don't pay much mind to it. It's just another psycho being taken to old Sparky.
The taps stop closer than I'd like. My cell door slides open which was- not expected. I spin my feet onto the floor and lift my head. The small guard beckons me, god knows why. I lift my aching body off the flea filled cot and drag my feet. The officer grabs my wrists gently; his hands are soft like a woman's should be. The snap of the cuffs pinch a little. As I was guided
down death row I notice no other guards are on duty, odd.
The little blonde cop holds the door for me as he prods me into the courtyard. His hat is tipped forward covering his eyes. I can't help but let out a little chuckle. He's too much of a coward to even look me in the eyes. He has such a small figure that if I wanted to I could easily kill him in one blow.
We step up to a shiny black car with tainted windows. He looks over his shoulders like he was a paranoid child while digging into his pocket. He took out a set of keys and un-cuffed me. Just as I was opening my mouth he told me to get in. I listened to the man but I had no idea what was going on. Was I dreaming? Does not medicating myself do this?
As the officer shut my door the jail's alarm started screeching like my ant Carol.
The man ran around the car and flung himself right into the driver's seat. He revved the engine and stepped on the pedal. The jail gate was shut; I guess they think the runaway might just walk out the front door. The officer calmly slowed down and showed ID. Simple as that and we were out; top security my ass.
He was speeding so I thought I had to point it out. He drove faster, some cop.
He reached for his hat and slowly removed it while shaking his head. Short, scruffy blond hair fell out from under his hat. That's when I noticed he was a she. That face was way too feminine for a man. She was breathing heavy, eyes wide; obviously terrified or shaken up.
I let out a frustrated sigh and told her she just got herself into a lot of shit and that for a young girl like herself just ruined her life. The cops will hunt her down.
"I don't care, a person as kind and unselfish as you doesn't deserve the fate of the chair." She answered in a small voice with her brow pulled over her eyes.
I give her another question. "How do you know I'm not just another psycho putting on an act?"
"I've heard stories."
Stories? From who and what about?
She continues, "I'm not some stalker, my sister told me. Wendy."
That name hits me square in the chest like a bullet. "Wendy's your sister?"
"Well, half to be exact. That's why I'm much younger."
I see the resemblance now. The blonde hair and the face. The only difference was the eye color, the straightness of the hair and the slight roundness of the face.
Why the kindness? Why does their family give such care?
I ask where she's taking me, she replies "Wendy, she'll know what to do."
After Story: Well, What do you think?
I kept it short because I didn't know how much of a success it'd be.
If I get a request for more I'll write more.
Thankies for your time 3