Author's Note: To understand this story, you must've read "Notice Me" before reading this. I don't own anything except for the character of Skye Alexander and her family and friends. I also am the creater of Randy Orton's baby sister, Anabelle. The wrestlers own themselves and Vince McMahon owns the WWE. I don't own any music mentioned in this either. The artists own it and yadi-yada. The cat named Snicklefritz is from 'Big Comfy Couch'. Nickelodeon owns Spongebob! And I don't own anything so I won't make this long. I just need to say that I'm doing this for fun! Yeah, yeah. You've probably heard that speech a million times so, I'll shut up now and proceed with the story. ***Man! I'm getting stingy with the updates. Ahh, my life has been so busy, but I made it a goal to update at least ONE of my stories today. So please be a dear and review! =)***
Oh man, what did he do to deserve this? It was just two days ago that he was sitting in his English class, wondering if he should dye his hair red or not. Now, he was sitting in a jail cell next to an obese man that went by the name of 'Rocko'. Jeff Hardy leaned his head against the cold cell wall, his green eyes looking around at the jail cell he was in. His cellmate, Rocko, was sitting on the top of his bunk, ripping at a book. He had a mean and forceful look on his face as he tore the pages out of the novel. Jeff cringed, scared, but also glad that Rocko wasn't ripping at him. He sighed and looked out past the silver metal bars. He was trapped. He was jailed for something he didn't even do. He was set up! But the police wouldn't believe him. No matter how hard he tried, Jeff Hardy was seen as guilty. The police already saw him as a deliquent, because he didn't wear the same clothes as everybody else. The moment he was thrown in to the jail and an orange jumpsuit as put on him, they dyed his hair blonde and made him 'normal'. It's only been two days and it was already hell. The mornings were filled with disgusting meals that he didn't want to even touch, let alone put in his mouth. After breakfast, everybody filed in to the disgusting showers. The walls of the showers were green with mildew and the smell made him want to hurl. Taking a shower after gym was bad enough, but taking a shower with a bunch of macho criminals? He'd rather be sent to a convent and made a nun.
"What are you thinking about, kid?" Rocko's husky voice interrupted Jeff's train of thought. Jeff's head quickly snapped over to Rocko's direction. He sighed, attempting to run his hands through his hair. But he couldn't. They gave him a buzz cut, telling him he wasn't allowed to keep it.
"How this sucks an ass." Jeff Hardy replied, rolling his eyes. Rocko smirked.
"Yeah, it sucks at first. But after you've been here for a year, it begins to feel like home." Jeff's green eyes grew wide and his jaw dropped to the ground. He couldn't stay for a year. There was no way in hell that was going to happen.
"A YEAR?! WHAT THE HELL!" Jeff screamed, as Rocko gave him a stern look.
"Shh! Keep it down! The guard might come down and make you go a shitload of push-ups again. Remember last night? How much did Shark have to do? 100!" Rocko scolded him. Jeff leaned his head against the wall again, looking up at the dirty ceiling. The night before, one of the guys in the cell next to them was making a racket. One of the guards ran down, yelling at him and telling him to do one-hundred push-ups. Jeff couldn't do that. He was too broken down to do anything physical.
"Well, I can't stay here any longer. I want to go home!" Jeff whined, his voice much quieter than before. Rocko jumped down from the top bunk and made his way over to the young Hardy brother. He took a seat beside him on the bench that was connected to the grey wall. He patted Jeff on the right shoulder lightly before speaking.
"You killed someone. You're not going home, kiddo. No matter how hard you try, you just can't." Jeff turned to his large cell mate, his hands in the air, waving at Rocko.
"Uhh..hello?! It wasn't me! How many times do I have to tell everybody. I didn't do it! Someone else did!" Jeff said, for practically the millionth time since he was hauled in by the two officers who showed up at Vincent K. McMahon High. Rocko laughed a bit, slapping his own leg before answering Jeff Hardy.
"Sure, kid. That's what they all say."
"How come you don't believe me? This is bullshit!" Jeff was getting stressed, it was too much for him. Nobody believed him. His father and brother saw him as a disgrace to the family. They didn't even want him to use the last name 'Hardy' anymore. It's not like he could get to the outside world anyways. He was stuck in prison with nowhere to go and nothing to do. He was in jail for something he didn't even do. There was in no way that Jeff had killed Petra Alexander. He would never do that. He would do his best to make it known that he was innocent, but nobody believed him.
Oh man, what did he do to deserve this? It was just two days ago that he was sitting in his English class, wondering if he should dye his hair red or not. Now, he was sitting in a jail cell next to an obese man that went by the name of 'Rocko'. Jeff Hardy leaned his head against the cold cell wall, his green eyes looking around at the jail cell he was in. His cellmate, Rocko, was sitting on the top of his bunk, ripping at a book. He had a mean and forceful look on his face as he tore the pages out of the novel. Jeff cringed, scared, but also glad that Rocko wasn't ripping at him. He sighed and looked out past the silver metal bars. He was trapped. He was jailed for something he didn't even do. He was set up! But the police wouldn't believe him. No matter how hard he tried, Jeff Hardy was seen as guilty. The police already saw him as a deliquent, because he didn't wear the same clothes as everybody else. The moment he was thrown in to the jail and an orange jumpsuit as put on him, they dyed his hair blonde and made him 'normal'. It's only been two days and it was already hell. The mornings were filled with disgusting meals that he didn't want to even touch, let alone put in his mouth. After breakfast, everybody filed in to the disgusting showers. The walls of the showers were green with mildew and the smell made him want to hurl. Taking a shower after gym was bad enough, but taking a shower with a bunch of macho criminals? He'd rather be sent to a convent and made a nun.
"What are you thinking about, kid?" Rocko's husky voice interrupted Jeff's train of thought. Jeff's head quickly snapped over to Rocko's direction. He sighed, attempting to run his hands through his hair. But he couldn't. They gave him a buzz cut, telling him he wasn't allowed to keep it.
"How this sucks an ass." Jeff Hardy replied, rolling his eyes. Rocko smirked.
"Yeah, it sucks at first. But after you've been here for a year, it begins to feel like home." Jeff's green eyes grew wide and his jaw dropped to the ground. He couldn't stay for a year. There was no way in hell that was going to happen.
"A YEAR?! WHAT THE HELL!" Jeff screamed, as Rocko gave him a stern look.
"Shh! Keep it down! The guard might come down and make you go a shitload of push-ups again. Remember last night? How much did Shark have to do? 100!" Rocko scolded him. Jeff leaned his head against the wall again, looking up at the dirty ceiling. The night before, one of the guys in the cell next to them was making a racket. One of the guards ran down, yelling at him and telling him to do one-hundred push-ups. Jeff couldn't do that. He was too broken down to do anything physical.
"Well, I can't stay here any longer. I want to go home!" Jeff whined, his voice much quieter than before. Rocko jumped down from the top bunk and made his way over to the young Hardy brother. He took a seat beside him on the bench that was connected to the grey wall. He patted Jeff on the right shoulder lightly before speaking.
"You killed someone. You're not going home, kiddo. No matter how hard you try, you just can't." Jeff turned to his large cell mate, his hands in the air, waving at Rocko.
"Uhh..hello?! It wasn't me! How many times do I have to tell everybody. I didn't do it! Someone else did!" Jeff said, for practically the millionth time since he was hauled in by the two officers who showed up at Vincent K. McMahon High. Rocko laughed a bit, slapping his own leg before answering Jeff Hardy.
"Sure, kid. That's what they all say."
"How come you don't believe me? This is bullshit!" Jeff was getting stressed, it was too much for him. Nobody believed him. His father and brother saw him as a disgrace to the family. They didn't even want him to use the last name 'Hardy' anymore. It's not like he could get to the outside world anyways. He was stuck in prison with nowhere to go and nothing to do. He was in jail for something he didn't even do. There was in no way that Jeff had killed Petra Alexander. He would never do that. He would do his best to make it known that he was innocent, but nobody believed him.