A/N: Hey there guys! I'm back, after a pretty long absence! I'M SO SORRY! This month, I have been doing my annual tradition of dying/flailing/writing in NaNoWriMo. It went VERY VERY VERY VERY WELL ACTUALLY - SO HAPPY - I GOT MY 50,000 WORDS ON DAY 13. So yeah. HOW COOL IS THAT?! So here's chapter 4 of D+L. Sorry it's so late! I'm so behind on here, I just posted chapter 7 on my wattpad account. Oops. But ATTR over there is only posted up to chapter 3, so its all good. PRIORITIES - HERE COMES FIRST. AS IT ALWAYS HAS BEEN, SO IT SHALL CONTINUE. INTO THE FOUL ABYSS THAT IS READING THIS INSANE NOVEL! ONWARDS, ONWARDS!

I'm hyper/ill right now. You can't tell very much, right?

Dedication: To Ashleigh, for editing. To Callum, for also editing. To my mom, for also also editing. To Zoe for NOT ANSWERING ME (ILY REALLY). To everyone who reads this. I love you all!

Disclaimer: All rights reserved.

Chapter Four

Location: The detention centre

I found out the following day from a particularly severe- looking L. E that my trial was set for five days time; I had almost one week in the detention centre before I had to be carted off for the court and be sent to the Island. At least I knew that Cole would be there when I got there.

The trip home that was mentioned in the rules that had been on my bed had been scheduled for three days time; apparently, it wasn't a social visit - just a chance to get the things that I wanted to take to the Island with me together. There would hardly be any time to speak to my parents properly, and they probably already knew anyway. If Jose had of told me that the system override would show up on the guards' computer, I wouldn't be in this mess. My blood boiled at the thought and I tried to push it out of my mind, but it wouldn't go very far.

The second day in the detention centre wasn't that bad. I had thought that the longer I would be there, the worse people would be, but it seemed as though nobody took any notice of the people who trickled steadily into the gaol from being arrested; maybe it was because nobody would be at the detention centre long enough to really call it home. It was a temporary holding place for all of us. The Island was where we were sent to serve our sentences, not the detention centre.

We were all woken up at seven in the morning by a blasting alarm that came through the intercom; Chloe threw a piece of crumpled up paper through the bars of my cell when there was no one looking. Trying to be inconspicuous, I dropped my jeans on top of it and then bent to pick them up. When I turned away from the corridor to pull on my top, I unfolded the paper to read what she had written on it. 'Meet me at the top of the steps at break' was all that she had scrawled on it. I put the paper into the pocket of my hoodie (black with white drawstrings and a white zip, provided by the detention centre. I didn't know when they had put them into my room, but they definitely hadn't been folded at the foot of my bed when I had climbed into it the previous night.

I sat down on my bed and thought about what I would be doing today. Probably, it would just be a day of sitting in my cell until break, then sitting outside until lunch and then, after lunch, going back to my cell. It was a boring and repetitive timetable, but what else could they let us do? Run around and go crazy? I grinned at the mental image of us all just doing what we wanted.

Then I really thought about it. They couldn't let us out of the strict timetable in the detention centre, but they did on the Island. Why? Because on the Island, we were away from 'normal people'. We weren't the government's problem anymore, so we were left to our own devices. They couldn't allow us to run wild in the detention centre because, technically, we still belonged to the government.

At around ten o'clock, an L. E came around with a clipboard and asked everyone if they wanted something to do. By the time he got to me, I was bored out of my mind and was ready to do anything I could get my hands on in order to pass the time better.

"Want anything?" he asked lazily, staring at me.

I swallowed. "What is there?" I asked carefully.

He glanced at the list that was on his clipboard. "Musical instruments, art supplies, notebooks and pens, access to the computer lab and a clean iPod and books."

I thought about it hard. I wasn't the best at playing instruments; I only really knew how to tune a guitar, could play a few notes on a violin and do a few songs on the piano. But I didn't particularly want to play anything, so I ruled that option out.

I had always been good at art at school, but I hadn't painted in such a long time that I wasn't sure if I could do it anymore. Sketches were all that I had done recently, and none of them were very good. Besides, I wasn't sure if I wanted to draw or paint anything anyway.

Listening to music wasn't really my thing, so I immediately crossed that option off of the list, so the next thing I thought of was books. I loved to read, but I hadn't had the motivation or the time to during the past few years since leaving school, and I also loved to write. I didn't even bother to decide which to go for, so I decided to ask for both.

"Could I get a book please? And also that notebook and pens." I asked firmly, my mind made up. He nodded and reached into a bag that was on his right shoulder, hidden from view, and pulled out a blank notepad and a pack of pens and rulers. The paper was lined with a margin, for which I was thankful, as my handwriting didn't always like to stay straight when I had to write on plain paper. The stationery (which was four pencils and a fifteen centimetre ruler, along with an eraser and a metal sharpener, state of the art, where the blade was not accessible) was good quality pencils with different coloured ink cartridges and the ruler was fifteen centimetres instead of thirty centimetres which meant that it could be stored easily.

"The library trolley will come around at twenty past, so you can choose your book then," the L. E said, and then he was moving on to Chloe's cell. I opened the notepad to the first clear page, pulled a pencil out of the pencil case, and wrote my name on it experimentally, trying to get a feel for the pencil. Surprisingly, it was very nice to write with and the letters flowed unbroken and evenly. My handwriting was a bit shaky seeing as I hadn't written for a while, but after writing out a few phrases, it was back to its normal neatness. I paused then, unsure what I was supposed to write about.

I stared hard at the paper, before putting the pencil to the page and writing two words:

'Chapter One'.

My brain had gone into overdrive, thinking about plots, characters, foreshadowing and the like. I myself was shell shocked; since when did I ever want to write a novel? I thought hard, skimming through memories until I reached one from when I was around eight years old. I had been big into my writing then and had written a ten thousand word story about a ladybird. It had taken me about three weeks to write and I was happy with it. When my mother found the draft one day, I had shouted at her for peeking and thrown her out of my room so that I could make the front cover and write out the final draft. She hadn't got a clue what I was doing, so when I presented the finished version of 'The Ladybird' to her on her birthday a month later, she was very shocked. I could remember her reading it all right then and there in front of me. She had told me that I had a talent and that one day, she wouldn't be surprised if she saw a book with my name on the cover in a book shop.

Life had gotten in the way of my passion for writing then; I had exams to prepare for in school, then finding out details about the De Morville's house and then I had a job interview, and then the job itself. I hadn't written a word of fiction since that day, and I had always wanted to. Sometimes, I had longed to just sit at my desk for hours and write out a plot that had popped into my head, but I never had. I just lay there, dreaming about it and how it might feel to finish another story.

I put down the notebook and pen on the bed next to me and began to think it through. Did I really want to write again now? The answer was a clear, instantaneous 'yes'. It was the right time to start writing again, what with everything that had been going on around me since I had started planning the break in at the age of twelve years old.

Something in the back of my mind seemed to stir; I imagined it to be my muse, and she looked a lot like my mother, all big brown eyes and fluffy brown curly hair that came to her shoulders. She rubbed her hands together gleefully and began to plan. She planned about plots that I had dreamt about throughout my life, about characters and their names, back stories and sub- plots.

After I got a brief idea of what I wanted to do, I began to write, my neat joined- up handwriting that always slanted to the right soon filling up the lines. A page was gone. Then another, and another until I had written an opening scene, written in a setting and introduced the main character.

The words flowed easily, and while I was writing, I felt better about everything that had happened to me recently. I forgot about being caught at the De Morville's house, being arrested, my trial being in five days time, having to face the disappointment of my parents in a few days… It all just disappeared.

By the time I had gotten halfway through the first chapter, it was half past eleven and it was time for break. I flipped the cover of the notebook over and placed the pencil back in its rightful spot.. After placing both on top of my bedside table, I walked through my suddenly open cell door and followed the people who were on their way to the courtyard. When I got outside, I went straight to the steps where I had met Cole the previous day and saw Chloe sitting at the top. I climbed the stairs towards her and sat down beside her.

"So I got your message," I told her, wrapping my arms around my legs.

"Good," she replied and flicked her blonde ponytail over her shoulder so that it cascaded across her body. "I wanted to talk to you properly."

'Oh no,'

My brain supplied. 'This is because you told her you stole from the De Morvilles. Stupid, stupid brain that says things before thinking about it!'

"Oh,?" I replied, folding my arms over my chest, deciding that I could play the same game as Chloe if I wanted to. "What did you want to talk about?"

She tilted her head to the left, a sardonic, knowing smile on her lips. "You told me that you tried to steal from the De Morvilles. You tried to steal ten million pounds from them, and then you get caught? I'm figuring it was because of an interfering factor, not you being careless. It was probably more about the guards getting lucky."

I was shocked beyond words, my mouth was probably hanging open; how the hell did she know all of that?! I hadn't told ANYBODY, and she was the only person I'd even come close to telling about what had happened!

"What, you think that the story didn't get out?" she scoffed, laughing at my expression. "The De Morvilles might not have wanted everyone to find out, but that doesn't mean that we don't already know. Someone told me about it yesterday. I'm quite a big deal around here, you see. No one wants to get on my bad side. Apparently, they're all scared that I'll attack them." Chloe flicked her ponytail again, not seeming to mind that the criminals that were being prepared to be sent to the Island were scared of her.

"Oh," was all that I said. I mean, what else could I really say? "So what do you want?"

She watched me carefully. "I want your help." she replied simply.

"You want my help," I repeated in disbelief. "When everyone here is scared to death of you. Why would you need my help?"

"On the Island, you're going to be a legend; nobody has ever tried to steal from the government before. You'll be the It Girl on there, and I'll seem tame in comparison. I mean, how many people are arrested for attempted murder? It's a common crime. But you… You've got guts to steal from the government. And I'll need protection there; that's where you come in."

Now it was my turn to scoff. "The 'It Girl'? What do you think this is, High School? Why would you even need my protection there? You're pretty intimidating, unless you hadn't already noticed."

Chloe scoffed again, doing that exasperated little cough- sigh hybrid noise that people do when they don't believe something. "That won't mean shit on the Island, Laurel. You think some sixteen- stone killing machine is gonna be scared of me? Get real."

We fall silent for a moment or two, both of us just looking at the other, trying to figure out what we should both do. I spoke first.

"Look, I don't mean to offend you Chloe, but I don't think I can help you. I mean, what if they think I'm just a stupid little girl and want to… I don't know!... Test my abilities or something stupid like that?" I asked her, hands in front of me, spread out, like I was holding an invisible tray of food. "I just want to keep my head down, serve my sentence in that place and then get the hell back home."

Chloe narrowed her eyes at me. "If anything, they'll be in fucking awe of you! Didn't it occur to you that there could be people on there who don't like what the world has fucking turned into with this stupid government?" she snarled at me as if I was stupid.

I resisted the urge to back up a few feet and stared her down. "You think I'm stupid?" I replied quietly. "Of course I know that. My point is, I don't want to be noticed, even though you might. I want to keep my head the hell down and get off of that place as soon as possible. What part of that don't you understand?"

Suddenly, Chloe's lips turned up into a sardonic smile. "Wow, you really don't like attention, do you?" she teased, suddenly changing back to being friendly with me. She was so mercurial! "Nobody's ever talked back to me before, Laurel," she added, seeing my slightly bemused expression at her change of personality. "It just proves that you've got guts to do that. Look, I'm not asking for much. Just flash your name here and there and make it plain that we're friends so that neither of us will get beat to death."

I raised my eyebrows at her, still not keen on the idea. "Oh, we're friends, are we?"

"Um… Yeah," she replied, talking as though it was obvious and I was simply unobservant.

I gave in, sighing a little. "Okay, whatever. But if you get into deep shit, I'm not pulling you out of it. That will be your own fault."

Chloe grinned, wrapping some of her blonde ponytail around her index finger. "Good! Thanks. Now that's sorted out, I need to go and get to the computer labs and write an email to my lawyer. He refuses to come to the detention centre anymore because the last client he had attacked him with eggs. He hates it here, so if I want to talk to him, I have to email him. Ciao." She said, standing up and hurrying down the steps two at a time so that she could get there before lunch. I had barely looked around when Cole sat down beside me with a thump.

"It's four- oh- three and I can't sleep without you next to me I toss and turn like the sea!," he sang as he pulled out an earphone. "'If you only knew' by Shinedown," he added. "What's up with the chat with Chloe "I- attempted- murder- 'cause- I'm- badass" Ford?" he asked, turning the volume down on his state of the art iPod; all he had to do was hold his hand over the screen and the volume would be adjusted.

I shrugged at his question. "We're cell neighbours. We got talking last night and she's quite cool, actually. She asked me if I'd look after her on the Island, if you must know, Cole." I answered him, shaking my head as though he had no right to know. Well, Chloe hadn't told me not to tell anyone, had she?

Cole raised an eyebrow, as was his custom whenever I said something that he found unbelievable. "You think she's nice? She's so intimidating nobody will even go near her. Everyone was staring at the two of you when you were speaking!"

I frowned at him. "I don't think they were, Cole. I think it was just you."

"No," he insisted. "You didn't see them. They were all staring, trust me. Anyway, if you're going to be friends with Chloe, you'll be untouchable. Everyone will be scared of you."

I threw my hands up in the air in exasperation at his words. "Nobody has any reason to be scared of me! If they're going to be like that just because of whom I talk to, then they really need to reconsider whether they're going to be tough enough for the Island."

He grinned at me like a maniac. "Touché," was all that he said.

Over the intercom came the loud bell that told everyone that dinner was ready. We all made our way towards the mess hall and repeated the same process as the previous day. I had fajitas that were marginally better than the food had been the previous day, with a bowl of potato and leek soup for my starter and a slice of apple and blackcurrant pie for pudding. My drink was elderflower and pear juice that was surprisingly thirst- quenching. I liked it a lot more than I would have expected to, at least.

Cole sat beside me again and a few other people came over to our table thins time, asking what my name was and why I had been arrested. I answered that I had been caught while I was attempting robbery. In the end, it wasn't enough for them, and they gave up asking what it was exactly that I had been arrested for, and walked away to finish their own lunches, leaving Cole and I in peace.

I sighed, taking a bite of chicken BBQ fajita after adding a spoonful of soured cream to it. "I don't see why I am so fascinating, Cole," I commented. "It's not like I pulled the crime of the century."

"Hmm," Cole said, chewing his way through his second fajita, brandishing it at me, sending drops of soured cream and BBQ cooking sauce flying in every direction. "The point is," he said after gulping down his truly huge bite of food. "You're new meat around here and there's been a rumour going around that you're the girl who tried to steal from the De Morvilles."

I stiffened, not expecting him to just come out with it. I glanced around to see if anyone had heard, then realized how suspicious I was acting, and attempted to laugh it off.

"As if I would be stupid enough to try and steal from the De Morvilles!" I said, laughing falsely. Cole, however, wasn't fooled by my awful attempt to lie and his mouth fell open, eyes widened and he sat up straight so quickly that his earphones fell out and clunked metallically as they hit against the table leg.

"You did do it!" he whisper- shouted.

"Shh!" I said desperately, looking over both of my shoulders to check if anyone had been listening in. "You don't need to tell the whole world!"

Cole stared at me before picking up his earphones again, untangling the knots in the wires before putting them back into his ears. "You either need to act like you're untouchable, or just never tell anybody the truth. Because, Laurel, if someone thinks you're weak… You're screwed."