My hands gripped the zipper of the jumpsuit, painstakingly dragging it up to just underneath my neck. I folded the collar of it down, running a hand through my hair, attempting to make it look a bit less messy (and failing). I heaved a sigh, glancing down at myself. Jesus, orange was not my color.

I already looked shit enough-I had dark circles under my eyes, which I had tried to fix by covering them in concealer, but seemed to have become only more defined because of it. My hair, which usually sat in nice beach curls of my shoulders, was now frizzy and unkept, and I could barely tug a brush through it. My make-up, which I usually spent the better part of an hour working on, was sloppy and rushed, and over all, I looked pretty awful.

I sighed, trying to ignore it as I grabbed my IPod, setting all the songs on shuffle and sticking an earbud in, allowing Echoes by The Rapture to blast.

I vaguely heard the probation worker shouting for us to hurry up, and kicking my locker shut, I kept my head down and hands stuffed in my pockets as I walked out, allowing my head to bob slightly to the music. Pursing my lips as I saw the group of train wrecks in front of me, I sighed, sizing them up.

There were six of them-the first a tall, black guy standing at the end, looking ready to blow his brains out. Then there was a guy resembling a pre-pubescent Eminem wannabe, whose weed I could smell all the way from where I was standing. Then there was a thin, vaguely attractive boy, with a mop of brown curly hair and a smirk that would make a mother swoon and a father scowl. Next to him there was a girl with the tightest pony tail I've ever seen, an over-abundant amount of make-up, and more gaudy jewelry than a prostitute. Besides her was a pretty girl with short, very curly brown hair who was smacking her gum, looking as bored as the first gentleman. Finally, looking the most out of place, was a boy with short, dark hair, pale skin, and the biggest (and possibly the creepiest) eyes I've ever seen. He almost looked like a socially awkward shark.

Hesitating, I finally chose to squeeze between shark-eyes and the curly-haired girl. It was then that the probation worker started his drawl-something about giving back to the community, us being able to redeem ourselves from being complete shitheads, etc., all of which I could care less about.

I wasn't surprised as he was interrupted, glancing over at the curly haired boy who had piped up, speaking in a thick Irish accent. "But, what if they're right? He asked, tapping the arm of Wannabe. "I mean, no offense, but I'm thinking some people are just born to be criminals."

Wannabe scowled, sizing Irish boy up. "You looking to get stabbed?" He snapped back, trying to look threatening.

"You see my point there," Curly said, showing off the Wannabe as proof.

As this was going an, an annoying generic ringtone beeped, and the girl beside me grabbed her phone from her pocket and answered with a flirtatious hey.

"It doesn't matter what you've done in the past," the probation worker said, irritatingly trying to steer the conversation back on track, interrupted with the girl on my right continuing to talk on her cell. "Hey, hello? I'm still talking here," he said, trying to get her attention, to which she responded with a bitchy look.

"What, I thought you'd finished?" She said, obviously annoyed by his interruption.

"Well, my lips are still moving, so that means I'm still talking," he replied, loosing a bit of his professionalism.

"Yeah, but you could be yawnin', or chewing," Irish boy added as an after thought, and I tried to cover up my laugh with a cough. The Irish one shot me a grin, and I quickly averted my gaze, chewing my lip.

"Hey, end the call," said the probation worker, ignoring him. "Hang up!"

"It's my probation worker," said the girl, seeming bored, barely acknowledging him.

"You okay there weird kid?" Irish boy said, and I glanced over at shark-eyes next to me, who seemed to be getting increasingly uncomfortable. I couldn't blame him.

The girl scoffed. "Don't be disgusting. I'll call ya later," she said into the phone, finally hanging up.

It was right about then that a threat was exchanged between Wannabe and Irish boy, and the taller boy at the end mumbled a "I shouldn't be here man."

"Look, we need to work as a team here-" the probation worker said, still struggling to keep us on task, obviously failing. "Aye, that's enough!" He snapped at Wannabe, who now had the Irish one by the collar.

"Can I move to another group? This isn't gonna work for me," the taller boy asked, ignoring the fight about to be started right beside him.

"Om, whot makes you 'fink you're bette' than os?" The girl with the pony tail said, glaring at him.

Irish boy laughed. "What is that accent?"

"Is that for real?" The taller boy added.

"Er, if ya tryin' ta say somethin', than ya," she replied, unfazed.

"You've got to be shitting me," I mumbled, rubbing my temple.

"It's-you-that's a just noise! Are we supposed to understand her?" Irish boy said, looking around in disbelief.

"Do ya understand thot?" She didn't even look at him as she flipped him the finger, and I couldn't but smirk.

Irish boy wrapped an arm around Wannabe's neck, smirking. "I think she likes me."

This was immediately met with Wannabe flipping his shit, shouting "Get off me man!" And shoving him away, the probation worker stepping forward.

"Hey!" He yelled, pushing Wannabe back while the Irish one faked throwing punches. There were a couple snickers from the group, and I shared a dreading look with "Weird Kid" beside me.

This was going to be a long couple weeks.


Once the probation worker had separated Wannabe and the Irish one, he had introduced himself as Tony, and then set us off on our first job for community service.

Painting benches.

At least we weren't sent straight to picking up shit.

I kneeled down, painting the seat with the Irish one (who was apparently Nathan) and the pony-tailed one (who was apparently Kelly).

We'd barely been there fifteen minutes, and Wannabe (Gary) had already stormed off for getting a bit of paint on his god awful cap, kicking a paint can into the lake, as well as shoving down a trolley on his way out.

"So I'm guessin'... Shopliftin'?" Nathan said to Kelly, and I tensed slightly at the mention of it, and caught Nathan's eye. He shot me a smirk. "You shoplifted?" He turned to me, grinning.

"Fuck off," I muttered, trying to focus on painting the bench.

"Ohhh, touché. I'm shocked, I thought maybe you got caught for prostitution."

"I said fuck off," I snapped, scowling at him. "Are you deaf or somethin'?"

He held up his hands in surrender. "I'm just trying to make conversation! This is our chance to network with other young offenders! We should be swapin' tips, brain stormin'! Come on, what'd you do?" He asked, turning his attention back to Kelly, would seemed a bit fed up already.

"This girl called me a slag so I jus' got into a fight," Kelly said with a shrug.

"Was it on the Jeremy Kyle Show?" Nathan asked with fake seriousness.

"Nah, it wos at Argos," Kelly replied, not amused.

"Oh, Argos," Nathan echoed, smirk still present. "You know what you should've done? You shoulda got one of them little pens and jabbed it in her eye," he added, casually pantomiming the affair. I winced, causing his attention to once again turn back to me. "Alright, so, you shop lifted. Don't you just get off with a warning or somethin'? What made you special enough to get two hundred hours of community service?"

I stared at the bench in front of me, trying to keep a straight face. "I pepper sprayed a security guard when I got caught. 'Resisting arrest'."

Nathan laughed out loud. "You're fucking joking, right? You just had it in your purse, and you-" he faked holding a can, pretending to spray it at me.

"Will you just shut the fuck up? It was stupid," I snapped, trying to ignore him.

"What about you weird kid?" He called out to the shark-eyed boy (Simon) painting the bench to our left. "Don't take this the wrong way or anything, but you look like a pantie sniffer. Y'know," he said, once again imitating the action.

"How the fuck isn't he supposed to take that the wrong way?" I asked, scowling, glancing over at Simon who looked like he was trying to hide his frustration.

"I'm not a pantie sniffer," he said calmly. "I'm not a pervert."

Then Nathan begin to pretend wanking off with the use of his paint brush, all the while making creepy groaning noises that sounded like they belonged in a horror movie rather than a porno. Simon scowled, but Nathan continued, until Simon finally burst. "I tried to burn someone's house down!"

Nathan stopped, letting out a high-pitched laughed, quickly turning back around.

"Whot did you do?" Kelly asked as thunder rumbled behind us.

"Me? I was done for eatin' some pick and mix."

"That's bullocks!" Kelly retorted, narrowing her eyes at him.

"Bet he got in for exposing himself to the locals," I said, earning a slightly offended look from Nathan, a laugh from Kelly, and even a smile from Simon.

"I did not! Alright, so I didn't exactly pay for the pick and mix, but-" he was interrupted by another, louder, clap of thunder. "What is going on with this weather?" He asked, the three of us turning around to see the fast approaching dark clouds.

"How'd that happen?" Tony the probation worker said, motioning to the kicked over paint can. "I mean, you've been here five minutes. It's painting benches. How'd you screw that up?"

More thunder.

"You tell me, cause I've got no idea."

Just then, something crashed behind Tony, causing an uproar of panicked shouts. I stumbled backwards, landing flat on my ass, into a bit of the splattered white paint from the kicked over bucket. I lifted my hand, seeing it covered in white. Fucking fantastic.

A car alarm was ringing, probably from the recently smashed car, and I slowly stood, shaking a bit. "Christ," I mumbled, looking up at the storm over head.

"That's my car," Tony said in disbelief, staring at the demolished wreck.

Nathan laughed beside me. "Classic." But, his laughed was cut short as there was another crash from behind us in the lake, showering us in water and little pieces of ice. I let out a small scream, scrambling back, managing to keep my balance this time.

"Okay, so I'm a little bit freaked out!" Nathan shouted, as if we really needed to know.

"What is that?" The curly-haired girl (Alisha) yelled, looking up the grey clouds, which were continuing to darken.

Another hunk of ice smashed the dumpster in front of Simon, who was on his phone, filming everything.

"Okay, let's just get everyone inside-Move!" Shouted Tony over the storm, running towards the community center. No one objected, quickly running after him.

More and more ice rained down, smashing anything in it's path, even tearing up the concrete sidewalks as it fell. I was sprinting after everyone, too hyped up on an adrenaline rush to feel myself tiring, desperately trying to avoid slipping as I darted past Simon. My throat was beginning to burn from shouting and running, and I was gasping for breath by the time we got to the community center doors. As I ran underneath the overhang, I yelled out as a hunk hit my heel, exploding on impact, sending my toppling to the ground. I groaned, struggling to stand, tugged up by Simon in a moment. I nodded a thanks, before turning to Tony, who was trying to open the door.

"Oh come on!"

"Open the door!"

"Open the fucking door!"

Tony whipped around, face beginning to go red. "Don't speak to me like that!"

And then, we were all blasted, lifted off our feet and into the air.

I couldn't tell if I was screaming or not, everything else around me too loud, it was too much. I felt my ears pop, and pain shot through every bone in my body. I could feel the electricity in my fingers, in my toes, pulsing through my body, my hair standing on end. It almost numbed my body with pain, only feeling it when the electricity it worsened-which was all it seemed to be doing. I was blinded, everything was white, I couldn't even see myself. I could smell smoke, surrounding me, probably the smell of my own skin burning. Ew, okay, gross.

It was then that everything seemed to speed up again, and I felt my back hit the gravel, making me groan. I rolled okay, eyes shut tightly, pain spiking through my body. Shit, that hurt. That really fucking hurt.

Once my ears stopped ringing and I could actually open my eyes, noticed everyone else seemed to be in various stages of coming to their senses, Kelly sitting up and stating the obvious. "I feel really weird."

"Really? After getting struck by lightening?" I muttered sarcastically, leaning up on my elbows.

"We should be dead," Simon said, and I frowned.

"A little reassurance might be nice," Nathan said, glaring at the probation worker. "'You're fine! Lookin' good!'"

"Owanker..." Tony grumbled in response, his head rearing to the side.

I had to stop a snicker.

Nathan, shocked, looked at the five of us. "Did he just call me a wanker?" He frowned, snapping his fingers at him. "Oi! Hello!"

"Is everyone alright?" Tony asked, sitting up a bit.

"We could've died you dick," Alisha said, sounding offended.

"Are you al'ight?" Kelly asked, just as Tony twitched, groaning. "You're acting like a freak."

"Maybe we should call it a day," he said, ignoring their comment.

"No arguments here," I muttered, standing up as Tony unlocked the door, pushing inside and rushing to the locker room, trying again not to think about how close to death I just was.

I pushed open the door to the locker rooms, quickly followed by the others. I rushed to mine-locker number 27-and popped it open. I quickly changed back into my normal clothes, relieved to get out of that awful orange jumpsuit. I tugged up my red skinny jeans, before pulling the white Ramones crop-top over my head, straightening it out in the mirror. I tugged on my black ankle boots, grabbing the hair brush I had neglected this morning and attempting to brush my hair, which was even worse since getting electrocuted.

"Whot'd ya say?" Kelly suddenly said, turning towards Alisha. I turned, watching the two nervously.

"I didn't say anything," Alisha said matter-of-factly, giving Kelly an odd look.

Kelly hesitated, before turning back to the mirror, continuing to brush her hair back into the pony.

Jesus, what's her problem? I couldn't help but think, and Kelly whipped around again. "Whot?" She snapped, glaring at me.

"What?" I asked, confused and a bit offended.

"Whot?" She retorted, and I backed up, quickly exiting the locker room. I did not need this today.

I walked out, my bag over my shoulder, seeing Simon, Nathan, and the taller boy, whose name I couldn't remember.

Nathan twitched, yelling "Wanker!" In front of Simon, earning a glare.

Alisha soon followed up behind me, looking around at all of them. "We waiting for something?" She asked, looking between all of us.

"Probation worker," replied the taller boy.

"I'm not waiting around for that dickhead," said Alisha, turning on her heel and walking out, we all shared a look, before following her out.

Day one down.

Who knows how many to go.


When I got home, I made a bee-line for the fridge, opening up it to see what wonders might await me.

There were three slices of leftover pizza, a jar of grape jelly, some sad-looking lunch meats, a bit of shredded cheese, half a gallon of milk, some ketchup, and an empty jar of pickles. Yum.

I threw the pizza into the microwave to heat up, tossing the empty jar and getting myself a glass of water. Once the microwave beeped, I settled onto my small couch, turning on the telly and flipping through the channels, settling on re-runs of Doctor Who.

I ate quietly, it not taking long for me to devour the leftovers, standing again and dumping the plate in the sink. It was then that my eyes were drawn towards the cupboard above my tiny oven, knowing that I kept a box of Oreos as well as my nice china up there, always hoping that my laziness would overcome my gluttony so I would avoid eating the sweets (usually though, this wasn't the case).

I opened the small cupboard, standing on my toes to try to reach for the box, my fingers feeling the smooth, cold edge of the stacked plates as they felt for the plastic covering. Finally, I managed to grab hold of the tip of the plastic sleeve, tugging at it, not noticing the plates shifting as I did.

Feeling confident that I had ahold of it, I quickly tugged it down, plates coming falling down with it. I let out a small scream, scrambling back and holding out my arms to shield myself, my back hitting the counter behind me. I felt the china crash against my skin, some of it shattering, the rest sent smashing to the floor, ceramic pieces scattering across the cheap tile floor.

The entire affair was over in seconds, but I stood there in shock for a moment, breathing heavily. Finally, I lowered my arms to examine them, rotating them to check for any gashes.

They were completely clean, not a scratch or bruise in sight.

My fingers lifted to my face, probing for any scratch or scar, and again, nothing.

I hesitated, before brushing off the bizarre lack of injury as luck, before begrudgingly beginning to pick up the remains of the plates.


A/N: First chapter down! what did ya'll think of it? I know it's starting a bit slow off, but I think it's alright. I've already got the next chapter written up, but I'm gonna wait to release it until I edit it, and hopefully write a bit more. Plus, I want to see what you all think of it! Please leave a review, or favorite/follow, whatever you want to do. Please tell me, do you think Lacey isn't involved enough in the group? How do you like her so far? Don't worry, you'll be learning more about her soon. But, again, please leave a review or something! See ya!