Well, I'm a bored author. So, I decided to write Mary Sue stories. Not just any Mary Sue stories, however. Mary Sue stories where the characters are cannon, and the Sues get what's coming to them. So far, I only have this chapter written for a Holes Mary Sue. I may write another chapter, or allow your imagination to do the work for what this girl rightfully recieves out on the 'lake'.
Review, comment, and critique if you wish.
Heat waves were nearly rising from the gooey, dirty, pleather seats that bounced erratically in the bus destined for Camp Greenlake. Sitting on one of the seats was a fair-skinned maiden. Long lockes of golden blonde hair streamed down her back like a cascade of honey. Her eyes, faceted with different hues of violet, sparkled in the desert sun that filtered through the grimy window. She wore a baby-blue halter, which showed off her curvy, and thin figure. Her short black skirt hardly reached her mid-thigh, and she wore a pair of hot-pink platform sandals. Sitting on her lap was a Hawaiian print bag, full of personal items she'd need while at Camp.
Her name was Angel Faye, yet her namesake never fit her personality. Angel was one of the most notorious merchants on the Black Market. What did she sell? Organs of the recently dead, who didn't have a donor card, a few stolen items she obtained herself, and even a few government secrets she got from breaking into the Pentagon. She didn't have any enemies, because her father was a mob boss in Los Angeles, and wouldn't let anything happen to his little doll of a sixteen-year-old daughter.
How ironic, since it was her father who continuously abused her, and raped her. Even some of his mobsters sexually harassed her. Angel frowned at the memories, her plump red lips turning into a perfect crescent shape. She attempted to push those thoughts of her past from her mind, yet they came flooding in.
Her mother had died when she was seven by falling down the stairs, and Angel's father blamed her, since his wife had tripped on a huge Malibu Barbie house left out on the landing. That plastic toy led to Angel's mother's doom. At age twelve, Angel started to cut herself, but after a beating from her father two years later, she stopped from fear of having her bones broken. About that time, her older brother died in a car crash, while talking on his cell phone, but Angel always wondered why he had been filled with bullet holes.
Feeling the bus jerk to the stop, the stoic girl looked over to the driver. He grinned a toothless grin through the mirror at her. His voice leaked with that sleazy, greasy nature of perverts as he stated, "Camp Green Lake, time for you to get off, princess."
Angel narrowed her eyes, and stood up, her flesh had stuck to the seat, despite her lack of sweating. Gracefully waltzing off the bus, yet not before she got a smack on her rump from the driver, she got her first view of Camp Green Lake.
Dirt, wire fences, nasty looking buildings, and horrible orange tents that positively clashed with Angel's halter top. Standing in front of her was a grungy looking man in a cowboy hat, with scraggly auburn sideburns, chewing on tobacco like a cow chewing cud. Lowering his sunglasses, the man looked Angel up and down with a look that made the girl think he was undressing her.
In all reality, it wouldn't have taken much imagination to imagine what lay below her scarcely clothed body. Clutching her bag to her chest, she stared at the fat man warilly. By the hungry look in the man's eyes, she didn't want to know what the man was thinking. Yet, she already had a clear idea what the man wanted, but she swore on her mother's grave that she'd kill the bastard if he ever tried.
Angel quickly stripped of her clothing, and yanked on the ugly orange jumpsuit, while the two men, Mr.Sir, and Mr. Pendanski, went over her incarceration period at Camp Green Lake. She had quickly finished dressing, but just knew that the two dirty, old men had snuck glances at her while she did so. Men always did.
"Well, little missy, it looks like you'll be housing in Tent D." started Mr.Pendanski, in that voice that grated ever so on Angel's nerves. She sneered at him as he went over the rules, what she would do, when she would be expected to do it. Yet, she ignored him and let her eyes wander around the dusty room. It was in serious need of an interior designer.
Finally, the man stopped prattling on, and Angel merely acknowledged his prescence with a nod of her head. Mr.Sir had disappeared during the lecture from Mr.Pendanski.
"Look, can I just go and get this done and over with?" Snapped Angel, hands on her curvacious hips. The man raised an eyebrow at her, before scolding, "Look now, missy, don't you take that tone with me. Here at Camp Greenlake, we're working to make you moral citizens. Now, we respect you, but only if you give us the respect we deserve first."
Angel snorted, muttering, "Yeah, whatever, fine."
A slight twitch flickered through Pendanski's face, but he hid the rage behind a forced smile. Turning on his heel, he went on with his duty of showing the arrival to her tent. While they walked through the camp, the man pointed out some of the more obvious faciliites. Angel could have figured out the functions for herself. Of course, the lavatories, and the mess hall were fairly similar in stench.
Finally, the annoying man left the girl in the tent she'd be living in for the rest of her term at Camp GreenLake. Looking around the room, with a sneer, Angel strolled to the empty bunk that Mr.Pendanski had pointed out to be hers. Luckilly, distracted by her looks no doubt, Angel still had her bag of personal items. Tossing the bag onto the cot, she flumped down onto the odorous piece of cloth and stared at the orange 'cieling' , for lack of a better word.
"There's, like, no way I'm going to stick around this trashy shit pile." grumbled the violet-eyed beauty, as she stretched out on her cot. Rolling over onto her stomach at the sound of a group approaching, Angel stared at the entrance to the tent intently until a group of raggedy looking boys entered.
For a moment, both summed each other up. Angel found a few cute faces in the crowd, but the fattie, and the one with the thick glasses wouldn't even get the time of day from her. Hopping off the cot, the girl strolled to the group, and, being the perfect social butterfly she is, she introduced herself.
"Hello boys. I'm Angel Faye." purred the girl, smiling stunningly at the cuter of the boys, while completely ignoring the unworthy ones. As another moment passed, all the boys suddenly had the same exact thought at the same exact time. A few started to lunge at her, but were stopped when grabbed by the back of their shirts by the boy with the coke-bottle glasses.
Angel curiously watched the boys go into a huddle. A hushed conversation, undecipherable to the beautiful girl, was going on between the group of the six boys.
"Awh. C'mon X-Ray, let us get her!" rumbled the huge boy named Armpit. A namesake which little X-Ray was starting to become very much associated with, dreadfully enough.
"Yeah! C'mon, c'mon, c'mon!" trilled Magnet, bouncing on the balls of his feet excitedly. This was a once in the lifetime chance to take advantage of the stupidity of a judge. Afterall, it was apparent that Camp Greenlake was a camp for boy miscreants. Yet, if the judge was willing to send a girl to this hard-knock camp, she was prey for any and all those boys craving to touch a female thanks to sexually driven hormones.
"Shut up." Growled X-Ray, hitting the back of Magnet's head. "This is what we'll do, so listen up and listen good. We're gonna make her feel comfortable first, ya' know. Let her feel like nothin' bad'll happen to her. Then, out in the lake tomorrow, when Mr.Sir and Mom aren't watchin' us, she'll be all ours."
All the boys grinned to one another, not really seeing what actually lay before them, but fantasizing about the upcoming day. Even if they did have to dig holes for the good part of the day, they'd still have a pleasing reward to look forward to. Especially, since this girl looked like a total frou-frou princess. She certainly wouldn't be done digging before any of them.
Angel would be a sitting duck, persay. A sitting duck with a very painedass by sundown.