AN: Because I am getting so few reviews I was going to wait a while to put this up, but I'm really bored right now (Songs on Napstar take WAY to long to download) I will continue.
Hehe- thanx to y'all who DID review! Much luv to ya!
KDWild: I'm gonna take your vote and go for Prep! Maybe… probably... He he he… this will be interesting! KEEP WRITING YEAR OF THE TYRANT! SEQUAL!!!!!!!
Lady Zera: hmm... I might try goth later. Or on Carmen! ^_^
Dude: thanx for reviewing! I don't have a reader/editor so I'm doin' the best I can.
Vixen/Celtic Air/Janet: Yeah! Continue your fic NOW!
A Argrim: hehehe… this chpt is for you! I'm gonna have her attacked or somethin' I think I'll do something with spies in here… hint hint…
Rosie: Wazzup! Thanx for the review! You're awesome!
Sarajane: What? What are you talking about? Who's Melinda Metz? Is she some new author or something? I'm sorry- but I have no idea what you're talking about. Sorry if this LOOKS familiar, but this story is completely original. All the ideas in here are from dreams that I have had in the past, or based on real life. Just because you don't like my story doesn't mean you should start telling me I stole it from someone. Get real.
On w/ The STORY!!
Chpt: 4
Ashley Spinelli stood outside the once familiar barbershop, breathing in every last detail. The peeling paint, the lavender scented conditioner, the faint sound of the scissors snipping away years of split ends and misused hair dye. It had once been so normal; it had just disappeared from her sight.
But now it was new, and somewhat frightening. She no longer felt welcome here. Where were the abusive guards? The steel walls? The constant fear of not waking up in the morning because someone has cut your throat. She felt like an intruder, 'a stranger in a strange land.'
Carmen reached over and squeezed Spinelli's shoulder a silent reassurance. Spinelli looked back at Carmen, nodding her head to show she was ready.
"Lets do it."
Carmen guided Spinelli through the shelves of beauty products, never letting her gloved hand move from her shoulder. Assortments of bottles and multicolored lotions whizzed by and Spinelli strained to peel her eyes away from them. There had been none of these glass things in Juvi Hall, and Spinelli found she had missed them.
Carmen caught her wandering gaze and sped up, pushing Spinelli along.
"You can't stand there gaping! You looked like a fish out of water!"
Spinelli stopped and lowered her head slowly. "I FEEL like a fish out of water."
Carmen's eyes found Spinelli's. "Not for long." She glanced at her watch and glared a little. "We're lucky this is an around the clock beauty parlor. It's almost 5:00am. School starts in an hour and a half! We've got to hurry!"
Spinelli sighed and started running after Carmen, who was already at the front desk signing in. Spinelli gave a small smile when the secretary saw exactly who "Ashley S." was. Apparently she watched the news, and had heard the reports. Spinelli had found the headline on that mornings newspaper reading, "15 Year Old Terrorist Released From Juvenile hall."
Carmen had caught her reading it, and had thrown the paper into the trash.
The secretary fidgeted in her seat as Carmen tried to pay in advance. She never took her eyes off Spinelli. "There's…. No need to…to…pay."
She pushed Carmen's hand away and waved two beauticians over. Spinelli was amused to see both were boys.
"Lance…" said the secretary slowly. "You'll take… Miss. Ashley here."
Lance turned out to be a blonde haired, blue eyed, weight lifter that looked as if he could have been one of the guards at Juvi. He stared down at her, his eyes hard and his mouth turned in a frown. "Come on kid."
Spinelli glared but followed him to a twirling chair. He pointed to it with one stubby finger. "Sit."
Spinelli obeyed silently. She pulled out a page torn from the magazine that Carmen had bought for them to look through. After much debate (and a couple punches on Spinelli's part) they had decided on two very different styles. Carmen had gone somewhat goth, and Spinelli smiled a bit to see the other boy, whose nametag had read "Dean", get out the black hair dye and nail polish.
Carmen and Spinelli had gone shopping the day before, looking for the perfect outfits for their new personalities.
Carmen had picked out a long black skirt, reaching to her ankles, and a no sleeved top that showed a little bit of flesh around her waist. Spinelli had helped with accessories, a spider web necklace with matching bracelets, and large spider earrings.
In return, Carmen had helped Spinelli with her outfit. Or rather, had gotten so tired of Spinelli burning every picture of an outfit she didn't like that Carmen took the magazine away from her and chose for her. They had ended up with what Carmen had described as, " a cheerleader's school outfit," and surprisingly enough Spinelli agreed. She figured that it would make her look like a normal teenager, not an insane Juvi Hall delinquent. Besides, she mused, its better then the alternative. Carmen had also shown her a very easy to make cowboy outfit, cow skirt and all.
Spinelli glanced impatiently at her watch as Lance finished watching her hair. It was 15 minutes since they had entered, and Spinelli was peeved. She wasn't supposed to be late for her first day, and this guy was taking forever. He was about to squeeze another palmful of conditioner into his hand when she reached up and grabbed his wrist.
"Hurry up will ya? I'm sure my hair is really clean now, so start styling!"
She snapped. Lance just grinned and lifted her head up. Wrapping it in a towel he directed her to the styling chair. She reached over and saw Dean streaking in black into Carmen's dirty blonde hair. Carmen stole a glance at Spinelli and raised an eyebrow. Spinelli sighed and rolled her eyes at Lance, who was taking every single piece of a hair from his new brush.
Spinelli sat in the chair and waited impatiently. When Lance decided it was clean enough he sprayed a leave in conditioner/mousse into her hair. She sighed happily as he massaged it into her hair. Maybe going to the beautician WASN'T so bad…
Spinelli mentally slapped herself. 'What's wrong with you! You're turning into an Ashley!'
Another part of herself argued, 'After today- you're gonna BE an Ashley!'
She looked up to see Lance taking off the rubber gloves she had given him to wear, 'To protect my head from the impurities on your hands' she had told him. Actually, she just didn't want any flashes; they made her feel like an intruder on other people's privacy. Then again, sometimes she liked knowing what was going on. There were something's that it was better to know than not.
She clasped her hands together; they were damp from un-noticed sweat that had gathered inside her gloves. "What do you think you're doin'?" she asked, an edge of terror cutting into her voice.
Lance grinned a tooth paste commercial grin. "I have to take them off to do you're hair. Otherwise the hairspray would stick to these gloves and really ruin your hair."
Spinelli was about to reach up and smack some sense into him when she felt his bare hands comb through her hair, brushing her scalp.
'Oh crud….'
Her body was sitting in the same chair, watching Lance in the mirror. He was rubbing in a mousse, taking slow strokes and deliberately pulling strand of her hair out. Spinelli watched from behind her body, trying to ignore the growing sense of panic. She watched as her body began to nod off, and glared at Lance's sick smile. He kept rubbing the foam into her hair, and she saw his knuckles go white from the pressure he was applying on her scalp. Then he stopped, and pulled away from the chair, his face contorted up in fury, then sadness, then pity. She watched him go through hundreds of expressions, until he turned calm again. Taking deep breaths he made his way to the drawers, acting as though he had not done anything out of usual. For all she knew, it could have been his normal. Reaching into a bottom drawer he retrieved a long, rust red metal comb, and Spinelli felt as if her knees would buckle. On closer examination she had seen that red was not it's natural color, blue was. The red was dried blood, layers and layers of it. He searched through another drawer and came up with a bottle of what looked like an advanced rat poison. Dipping the comb into the bottle, he let it soak a few seconds. Lifting it up slowly, he made no move to control the dripping. One stray drop landed on the flowers in a vase by their station. Immediately, Spinelli saw nothing happen, but then one leaf curled up and turned brown. Then another, then another. Within 2 minutes the plant was dead. Spinelli turned and watched as Lance stroked the comb into her body's hair, pressing so hard that the comb spikes dug into her scalp. Long stripes of blood appeared wherever the comb touched, and the poison slowly leaked into the wounds. Lance grinned evilly and stroked one of the cuts with one finger. He lifted it to his mouth and sucked on his finger, inhaling the blood and poison. Spinelli turned away- sickened…
Spinelli woke up with a start. Of all the flashes she had had, that one took the cake. Shaking her head a little she glanced at Lance, who was bent over the bottom drawer, cradling something in his palm like a newborn baby. Spinelli's mind screamed out a warning, but she pushed it aside and leaned closer. He held it against his chest and breathed in the fumes radiating from it. She came closer, then shrank back into the chair and closed her eyes.
'Focus, focus…'
Opening her eyes a small bit, she saw the way too familiar comb set onto the desk as he reached into another drawer.
'He's gonna kill me… d***!'
She sunk back deeper down the chair and breathed deeply. She allowed herself to clear her mind, which, although it often lowered he defenses, let her think much more clearly. 'Ok- he's obviously got a mental problem, and from the different feelings I got from the flash, there are probably multiple personalities. If I can distract this personality, maybe I can signal Carmen to call the police, or at least hold him off while someone does…'
She sighed and opened her eyes just in time to see the plant die. 'De ja vui.' She thought sarcastically. She had learned to become sarcastic instead of afraid, she found it both aggravated her enemies, and allowed her to think clearer.
She held up her gloved hand and grabbed Lance's wrist before he could rake through her hair.
"Wait."
She spun her chair so that it faced him, causing him to clench his teeth in pain as she also twisted his wrist. Looking him eye to eye she grinned.
"I don't think my hair needs to be combed anymore. It's almost dry and it doesn't tangle easily."
He gave her a puppy dog face, and Spinelli felt his reins tighten in his wrist. Years of experience had taught her that meant he was preparing for an attack. She closed her eyes and let his fist crash into her cheekbone. It hurt somewhat, and she was sure there would be a bruise later, but it gave her the advantage. First, the blow was strong, but she could tell he put to much effort into his attacks, he would tire easily. Second, if they took her to court for fighting within the first week of her release, she could say she acted in self-defense. This place was no longer empty, and so she would have eyewitnesses.
Clenching her eyes shut she ignored whispers of, "Isn't that…" "Why did he…"
Wrapping her other gloved hand over the same wrist she used all her strength to throw him over her shoulder and into the mirror. It cracked with a pleasant crash and she leapt out of the chair. Leaning over him she wrenched the comb from his grasp, using only her little finger nails in order not to smudge his fingerprints. "Exhibit A."
She held him on the ground, ignoring the numerous kicks his was sending her. Looking around at all the staring faces she said crossly, "Will someone call the police? Or are you all too dense to figure that out? I'll give you a hint, the numbers 911."
This seemed to wake them from their trance. Not bothering to block a poorly aimed blow to the stomach she watched as Carmen pulled out her cell phone and dialed for help.
'I'd better get a year's worth of certificates for free makeovers. This is beyond believable.'
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
Lol- thanx to all of you who reviewed. Sorry I took so long to get this one out, I promise that once I blow up MY school the chpts will come faster. Hehehe. J/k
Wazzup Girl
Hehe- thanx to y'all who DID review! Much luv to ya!
KDWild: I'm gonna take your vote and go for Prep! Maybe… probably... He he he… this will be interesting! KEEP WRITING YEAR OF THE TYRANT! SEQUAL!!!!!!!
Lady Zera: hmm... I might try goth later. Or on Carmen! ^_^
Dude: thanx for reviewing! I don't have a reader/editor so I'm doin' the best I can.
Vixen/Celtic Air/Janet: Yeah! Continue your fic NOW!
A Argrim: hehehe… this chpt is for you! I'm gonna have her attacked or somethin' I think I'll do something with spies in here… hint hint…
Rosie: Wazzup! Thanx for the review! You're awesome!
Sarajane: What? What are you talking about? Who's Melinda Metz? Is she some new author or something? I'm sorry- but I have no idea what you're talking about. Sorry if this LOOKS familiar, but this story is completely original. All the ideas in here are from dreams that I have had in the past, or based on real life. Just because you don't like my story doesn't mean you should start telling me I stole it from someone. Get real.
On w/ The STORY!!
Chpt: 4
Ashley Spinelli stood outside the once familiar barbershop, breathing in every last detail. The peeling paint, the lavender scented conditioner, the faint sound of the scissors snipping away years of split ends and misused hair dye. It had once been so normal; it had just disappeared from her sight.
But now it was new, and somewhat frightening. She no longer felt welcome here. Where were the abusive guards? The steel walls? The constant fear of not waking up in the morning because someone has cut your throat. She felt like an intruder, 'a stranger in a strange land.'
Carmen reached over and squeezed Spinelli's shoulder a silent reassurance. Spinelli looked back at Carmen, nodding her head to show she was ready.
"Lets do it."
Carmen guided Spinelli through the shelves of beauty products, never letting her gloved hand move from her shoulder. Assortments of bottles and multicolored lotions whizzed by and Spinelli strained to peel her eyes away from them. There had been none of these glass things in Juvi Hall, and Spinelli found she had missed them.
Carmen caught her wandering gaze and sped up, pushing Spinelli along.
"You can't stand there gaping! You looked like a fish out of water!"
Spinelli stopped and lowered her head slowly. "I FEEL like a fish out of water."
Carmen's eyes found Spinelli's. "Not for long." She glanced at her watch and glared a little. "We're lucky this is an around the clock beauty parlor. It's almost 5:00am. School starts in an hour and a half! We've got to hurry!"
Spinelli sighed and started running after Carmen, who was already at the front desk signing in. Spinelli gave a small smile when the secretary saw exactly who "Ashley S." was. Apparently she watched the news, and had heard the reports. Spinelli had found the headline on that mornings newspaper reading, "15 Year Old Terrorist Released From Juvenile hall."
Carmen had caught her reading it, and had thrown the paper into the trash.
The secretary fidgeted in her seat as Carmen tried to pay in advance. She never took her eyes off Spinelli. "There's…. No need to…to…pay."
She pushed Carmen's hand away and waved two beauticians over. Spinelli was amused to see both were boys.
"Lance…" said the secretary slowly. "You'll take… Miss. Ashley here."
Lance turned out to be a blonde haired, blue eyed, weight lifter that looked as if he could have been one of the guards at Juvi. He stared down at her, his eyes hard and his mouth turned in a frown. "Come on kid."
Spinelli glared but followed him to a twirling chair. He pointed to it with one stubby finger. "Sit."
Spinelli obeyed silently. She pulled out a page torn from the magazine that Carmen had bought for them to look through. After much debate (and a couple punches on Spinelli's part) they had decided on two very different styles. Carmen had gone somewhat goth, and Spinelli smiled a bit to see the other boy, whose nametag had read "Dean", get out the black hair dye and nail polish.
Carmen and Spinelli had gone shopping the day before, looking for the perfect outfits for their new personalities.
Carmen had picked out a long black skirt, reaching to her ankles, and a no sleeved top that showed a little bit of flesh around her waist. Spinelli had helped with accessories, a spider web necklace with matching bracelets, and large spider earrings.
In return, Carmen had helped Spinelli with her outfit. Or rather, had gotten so tired of Spinelli burning every picture of an outfit she didn't like that Carmen took the magazine away from her and chose for her. They had ended up with what Carmen had described as, " a cheerleader's school outfit," and surprisingly enough Spinelli agreed. She figured that it would make her look like a normal teenager, not an insane Juvi Hall delinquent. Besides, she mused, its better then the alternative. Carmen had also shown her a very easy to make cowboy outfit, cow skirt and all.
Spinelli glanced impatiently at her watch as Lance finished watching her hair. It was 15 minutes since they had entered, and Spinelli was peeved. She wasn't supposed to be late for her first day, and this guy was taking forever. He was about to squeeze another palmful of conditioner into his hand when she reached up and grabbed his wrist.
"Hurry up will ya? I'm sure my hair is really clean now, so start styling!"
She snapped. Lance just grinned and lifted her head up. Wrapping it in a towel he directed her to the styling chair. She reached over and saw Dean streaking in black into Carmen's dirty blonde hair. Carmen stole a glance at Spinelli and raised an eyebrow. Spinelli sighed and rolled her eyes at Lance, who was taking every single piece of a hair from his new brush.
Spinelli sat in the chair and waited impatiently. When Lance decided it was clean enough he sprayed a leave in conditioner/mousse into her hair. She sighed happily as he massaged it into her hair. Maybe going to the beautician WASN'T so bad…
Spinelli mentally slapped herself. 'What's wrong with you! You're turning into an Ashley!'
Another part of herself argued, 'After today- you're gonna BE an Ashley!'
She looked up to see Lance taking off the rubber gloves she had given him to wear, 'To protect my head from the impurities on your hands' she had told him. Actually, she just didn't want any flashes; they made her feel like an intruder on other people's privacy. Then again, sometimes she liked knowing what was going on. There were something's that it was better to know than not.
She clasped her hands together; they were damp from un-noticed sweat that had gathered inside her gloves. "What do you think you're doin'?" she asked, an edge of terror cutting into her voice.
Lance grinned a tooth paste commercial grin. "I have to take them off to do you're hair. Otherwise the hairspray would stick to these gloves and really ruin your hair."
Spinelli was about to reach up and smack some sense into him when she felt his bare hands comb through her hair, brushing her scalp.
'Oh crud….'
Her body was sitting in the same chair, watching Lance in the mirror. He was rubbing in a mousse, taking slow strokes and deliberately pulling strand of her hair out. Spinelli watched from behind her body, trying to ignore the growing sense of panic. She watched as her body began to nod off, and glared at Lance's sick smile. He kept rubbing the foam into her hair, and she saw his knuckles go white from the pressure he was applying on her scalp. Then he stopped, and pulled away from the chair, his face contorted up in fury, then sadness, then pity. She watched him go through hundreds of expressions, until he turned calm again. Taking deep breaths he made his way to the drawers, acting as though he had not done anything out of usual. For all she knew, it could have been his normal. Reaching into a bottom drawer he retrieved a long, rust red metal comb, and Spinelli felt as if her knees would buckle. On closer examination she had seen that red was not it's natural color, blue was. The red was dried blood, layers and layers of it. He searched through another drawer and came up with a bottle of what looked like an advanced rat poison. Dipping the comb into the bottle, he let it soak a few seconds. Lifting it up slowly, he made no move to control the dripping. One stray drop landed on the flowers in a vase by their station. Immediately, Spinelli saw nothing happen, but then one leaf curled up and turned brown. Then another, then another. Within 2 minutes the plant was dead. Spinelli turned and watched as Lance stroked the comb into her body's hair, pressing so hard that the comb spikes dug into her scalp. Long stripes of blood appeared wherever the comb touched, and the poison slowly leaked into the wounds. Lance grinned evilly and stroked one of the cuts with one finger. He lifted it to his mouth and sucked on his finger, inhaling the blood and poison. Spinelli turned away- sickened…
Spinelli woke up with a start. Of all the flashes she had had, that one took the cake. Shaking her head a little she glanced at Lance, who was bent over the bottom drawer, cradling something in his palm like a newborn baby. Spinelli's mind screamed out a warning, but she pushed it aside and leaned closer. He held it against his chest and breathed in the fumes radiating from it. She came closer, then shrank back into the chair and closed her eyes.
'Focus, focus…'
Opening her eyes a small bit, she saw the way too familiar comb set onto the desk as he reached into another drawer.
'He's gonna kill me… d***!'
She sunk back deeper down the chair and breathed deeply. She allowed herself to clear her mind, which, although it often lowered he defenses, let her think much more clearly. 'Ok- he's obviously got a mental problem, and from the different feelings I got from the flash, there are probably multiple personalities. If I can distract this personality, maybe I can signal Carmen to call the police, or at least hold him off while someone does…'
She sighed and opened her eyes just in time to see the plant die. 'De ja vui.' She thought sarcastically. She had learned to become sarcastic instead of afraid, she found it both aggravated her enemies, and allowed her to think clearer.
She held up her gloved hand and grabbed Lance's wrist before he could rake through her hair.
"Wait."
She spun her chair so that it faced him, causing him to clench his teeth in pain as she also twisted his wrist. Looking him eye to eye she grinned.
"I don't think my hair needs to be combed anymore. It's almost dry and it doesn't tangle easily."
He gave her a puppy dog face, and Spinelli felt his reins tighten in his wrist. Years of experience had taught her that meant he was preparing for an attack. She closed her eyes and let his fist crash into her cheekbone. It hurt somewhat, and she was sure there would be a bruise later, but it gave her the advantage. First, the blow was strong, but she could tell he put to much effort into his attacks, he would tire easily. Second, if they took her to court for fighting within the first week of her release, she could say she acted in self-defense. This place was no longer empty, and so she would have eyewitnesses.
Clenching her eyes shut she ignored whispers of, "Isn't that…" "Why did he…"
Wrapping her other gloved hand over the same wrist she used all her strength to throw him over her shoulder and into the mirror. It cracked with a pleasant crash and she leapt out of the chair. Leaning over him she wrenched the comb from his grasp, using only her little finger nails in order not to smudge his fingerprints. "Exhibit A."
She held him on the ground, ignoring the numerous kicks his was sending her. Looking around at all the staring faces she said crossly, "Will someone call the police? Or are you all too dense to figure that out? I'll give you a hint, the numbers 911."
This seemed to wake them from their trance. Not bothering to block a poorly aimed blow to the stomach she watched as Carmen pulled out her cell phone and dialed for help.
'I'd better get a year's worth of certificates for free makeovers. This is beyond believable.'
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
Lol- thanx to all of you who reviewed. Sorry I took so long to get this one out, I promise that once I blow up MY school the chpts will come faster. Hehehe. J/k
Wazzup Girl