Who's the outlaw? Quick on the draw?
Cast the first stone if you don't have a flaw.
Who fills the jails? Who lives above the law?
White collar, Black Market, Who's Rich, Who's Poor?
-Big Branch, Gangstagrass
Phoenix was dead inside. In the middle of summer, just before starting first grade, she was dropped like a rock next to Tori's TV Emporium. She was on the floor, hiding in an alleyway, bawling. Her parents had woken her up at four in the morning to kick her to the curb. She was still in her pajamas, which consisted of a triple-x large football jersey, meant for an overweight, adult male. It was an Eagles jersey, #18, that said Owens on the back. She also wore a set of dark grey leggings and a lighter pair of gray socks.
Her bright red hair was knotted and tangled, hanging in a long, thick clump. Her pale skin fit over a foxlike skull structure, her deep, piercing, grey eyes filled with hatred and hurt. She realized that she still favored this situation over her at home situation.
She was continuously beat for being switched at birth. She had never met her biological parents. She was constantly kicked in the side and punched in the eyes. Her left pupil had faded to match her iris from being hit so hard that her entire left eye went blind.
She stood up, walking to the nearest Subway restraint. Thank God it was Friday! This was the nearest Subway that let homeless people eat free all day. She stumbled inside, standing in line. She had picked a simple sandwich, ham, cheese, olives, and mayonnaise. She ate quickly, trying to clear up her table quickly. She ran to Town Square. Maybe her kick-assing dance moves would earn her some cash? She danced her heart out, and collected enough to buy a daytime outfit and, if she played her cards right, a pair of shoes.
About an hour later, she walked to a nearby Seven Eleven, and asked to stay the night.
About seven years later, Phoenix was celebrating her Thirteenth birthday in the Seven Eleven she had spent most of her life in. She basically owned the store now, being able to have all of the snacks she wanted.
"Hey, Keith! Nice to see you today!" she shouted, running to meet the employee before he got behind the desk.
"Hi there! How's my Fire Bird today?" he said equally as loud, Picking her up and twirled her around. "Happy Birthday!"
"Thanks, Keith! Say, how many regulars do you think we'll see today?" Phoenix asked, picking up a Cosmo magazine. She flipped through it, noticing how many models needed to be airbrushed to look good. She had natural beauty.
She ran a mini, orange hairbrush through her soft, long, brick red hair. She hadn't had a haircut in seven years, and it showed. Her hair flowed down her back to her tailbone. She skipped to the Employee restroom to change. She put on a cloudy grey bra, a black tank top, and a pair of purple shorts.
She ran into the main part of the shop, grabbing a Sprite out of the fridge. She cracked the lid open, her lean muscles flexing through her pale, ghost-like skin. She took a sip, cringing slightly at the carbonation.
She kept watch of the store when Keith had to leave work to hang out with some guy named Ellis. Soon though, she was too bored to resist sleep.
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