HELLO. this is VERSION TWO of Super Villian Summer Camp.
Hated the first version, deleted, this is the first chapter of the second.
Good?
GOOD.
anyway i hopes you likes it. Sorry for if there's any spelling errors. or grammar errors. Spellcheck is being a butt and wont opperate.
boo!
anyway on with storytiems.
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6/20/05 EXACTLY FUCKING LIKE HIM. Wanna know whyyyyyy?
I got arrested! I got arrested and I didn't even do anything. They think I was like, shoplifting or something, but since WHEN do I shoplift? I. Don't. Think. So. I never even stole anything, but they showed me security survalence tapes that I did. It wasn't me though, it was Laura's little sidekick, Benny, shapeshifting as me. What a bitch, what a bitch, what a bitch. I seriously don't even KNOW. Oh my god, my life is ROONED.
I feel like Stanley Yelnats. You know, that kid from Holes? I feel
I snapped my journal shut and sighed. I was sitting on a cold, hard concrete bench inside a holding cell. I kicked my bag on the floor, and tossed my journal on top of it. I was sure they'd take away my bag, but I'm pretty sure I'm getting special treatment. They did go through my stuff, and when they found my student ID among all the crap in my bag, they game me a really weird look and just basically stopped everything. They put me in a holding cell, but only because I think they HAVE to.
Oh, but wait. Let's see how I got arrested.
So I was at Target, right? I was getting eyeliner, mascara, shaving creame, a little box of razors, and deodorant. I try to time it so I run out of everything at once, so I'm not always running back to Target every other week. I dropped all my items in to my basket and waltzed over to the movie section, to see if they had Elizabeth Town. They never do, and I've been searching for that movie for about half my life. A lot of people are like "Uuuuuuuuh, it suuuuuuuucks" but I'm like "Uuuuuuuuuh, YOU suck." I love that movie. Probably because of the dialogue. I'm not a big fan of Orlando Bloom or Kirsten Dunst, but I think if, for some strange reason unbeknownst to me, Lifetime decided to make a movie out of my life, I would ask for her to play my role. I know she's kind of a bad actress, but she's the actress that looks the most like me. There, reason justified.
Back on topic, they didn't have Elizabeth Town, but they had The Producers - the new one, so I dropped that into my basket as well. I mozied up to the cash-out section in the front of the store, stopped, grabbed some gum, and began unloading my basket onto the conveyer belt at cash register 5. The cashier was a really bored looking teenage girl. She was Mexican, with the big hoop earings, drawn on eyebrows, very curly hair and curled out bangs. Not to mention the harsh lipliner and claws for finger nails. She looked at me sarcastically and popped her gum at me. I smiled.
Halfway through ringing up my items I received a heavy tap on the shoulder. I turned around to meet the Jolly Green Giant. Okay, so he wasn't so jolly, nor was he green, but he was the tallest man I have ever even seen.
"Deciding to pay for your items this time?" He said down to me. His voice was booming, like thunder, and I wouldn't put it past him if all of a sudden he was God.
"Uhhhh...?" You see, I always have something to say in these sort of situations.
"Come with me," He took me by the elbow, and kind of dragged me away. I really didn't have a say in the matter, he practically lifted my 5'4'' self off the ground. I looked over my shoulder at the cashier girl for some sort of help, but she was just standing there, gawking at me with her jaw hanging on a hinge. I swear her gum was going to fall out.
I was pulled through a door marked "employee's only" and all of a sudden I was behind the scenes of Target. We turned a corner down a blindingly white halway, and turned another corner, the walls still being oh so very bright. We turned again and all of a sudden we were in a room with puke green walls, and I was forced into a yellow chair from the 70's.
"So!" I looked up, and a very short, wide man was leaning over the counter, staring me down. I slid down in my chair a little. "You're the shoplifter we've been after all month."
"The - what?" I swear to you, I've never shoplifted a day in my life.
"Ohhhhohohohoh, you can't sweet talk your way out of this one little girl," he wagged a pudgy little finger at me. "I know you're type."
"I don't even know what you're talking about!" I squeaked.
"Oh you don't? Ooooohhhhhh you don't. Well, well, we'll just have to jog your memory then, wont we?" He directed my attention to a TV on top of his filing cabinent, and pressed a button. There I was, black and white, on the fuzzy security video, sneaking about five CD's into my purse. The manager, I'm guessing, ejected the tape from the TV and put in another one. There I was again, taking three boxes of pills from the pharmacy. Another tape, I was taking accessories to ipods and other mp3 players. Another tape, I was stealing make up I would never even use. Another tape, I was examining the back of a movie before I dropped it into the bag that looked to be Prada. I don't even own anything Prada.
"Do you still not know what we're talking about?" The manager turned off the TV and glared at me.
"I didn't do that!" I wailed. I tried to stand up, but the giant security guard pushed me back into my seat.
"Don't give me that shit, the police are already on their way. Don't you read the signs in the dressing rooms? 'Shoplifters WILL be prosecuted!'" The Manager laughed, and as if on cue, there was a knock on the office door.
"Officers! Officers come in, I've got her right here, right here," the Manager giggled to himself, and his three chins jiggled a little bit. The officers walked up to me and motioned for me to stand. One of them walked behind me and handcuffed me. I have never been handcuffed before.
"Before you go! Before you go, will you look through her bag?" The Manager pointed to my bag on the floor. I was tempted to move it across the room, but then I'd be exposed.
"Of course," one of the officers bent down and put my bag on the Managers desk. He turned it upside down, emptying it of my life. In seconds, the Manager's desk was probably dirtier than it had been in five years. From what I could see there were five tampons, my journal (which I never go anywhere with out), my cell phone, my camera, my keys, money, coins, receipts, an extra pair of underwear and a spare shirt (in case bad things should happen), my old, empty deodorant, a few photobooth film strips of me and various friends, my ipod, my compact, and a water bottle.
The cops started sifting through my belongings, one of them on the Manager's side of the desk. I knew there wasn't anything stolen in the bag so I could at least relax about that.
"Hey," one of the cops said to the other. I looked to see what he was holding, my student ID. The cop facing me looked at me, shocked. After that they were done with their search, I guess, because they put all my stuff back in my bag.
"Okay, come on sweetheart, you're coming with us," the taller one gently lead me out of the office by my shoulders. All the way out to the car I could hear the Manager laughing from his office. Well, fuck you.
So ends the story of how I ended up in my current situation.
I sighed again and swung my legs up onto the concrete bench and layed down. I was pretty exhausted. Getting arrested takes a lot of energy out of you, let me tell you. My stomach growled, and I frowned, putting my hand on it. They haven't really fed me since I got here. I guess it's okay though because I've been getting weird stomach aches for no reason. They suuuuuuuuck, hey.
I started falling a sleep a little bit, and just as I was about to start dreaming, I heard the bars of my cell being shaken. I nearly fell of my concrete slab trying to sit up
"Whoozer," I rubbed my eyes, looking up. It was two really tall men, although not as tall as the Target security guard, and they were dressed all in black.
"Mykalanne Peterson, we're from the S.P.U., we'd like you to come with us," one of them said, flashing a badge. The Super's Protection Unit? A short, burly police officer unlocked my cell and slid the bars open. I hastily grabbed my bag and shuffled out of the cell and waited to be told where to go.
"Follow me," One of the S.P.U. agents turned on his heel and led the way down the hall. I followed him and the other S.P.U. agent followed behind me. It felt like I had body guards. We got outside and It was night time. For some strange reason both of the agents were wearing sunglasses. They'd been wearing them inside too. There was a large black car waiting for us in the parking lot, and the agent I'd been following opened a door for me to get in. Once I was settled, they got in after me.
"What's going on?" I whined. I regretted sounding like a baby, but I'd really like to be clued in here.
"We've notified your parents," one of the agents said, finally taking off his sunglasses. He had white-ish blue eyes, like one of Marilyn Manson's.
"Oh Goooooooodddd," I hit my head on the seat behind me. "Are they going to disown me?"
"Not exactly," said the other agent, the one who hadn't said anything the whole time. I was about to learn that when he spoke, it would probably be the most horrible, important news of your life.
"Then what?" I said on an exhale.
"They're sending you to summer camp."
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SO
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