Scarier than Straight prompt #WPW (on Thursday)

I started a writing prompt yesterday and didn’t finish it!! So here’s my new Wednesday prompt (on Thursday, which I guess is fair because Wednesday was taco night…. instead of Tuesday…)

Write a story about a kid in the Scared Straight Program who is scarier than the inmates.

I got it from… somewhere on Reddit. If I ever figure it out Ill post a link. Sorry to whoever thought of it!!

She tried to focus her mind through the cacophony of shouting inmates. It was worse than she thought. The crackle and buzz of emotion swelled in her head and she fought to keep it back.
When she tamped it back, she saw one of the inmates staring at her.
“What the fuck are you smiling at, Princess?”
“I- I wasn’t-,” she stammered.
He pushed his face closer to hers, so that he was just barely separated from her. “You wanna smile at me, Bitch? You like me? You think this is a fucking joke?”
“N- no,” she felt her face turning down, “No I don’t.”
Heat rose in her cheeks and the crackle started again.
“You better fix your fuckin’ attitude if you don’t want to end up in here.”
The buzzing returned, pulling her mind apart slowly, thread my thread and she struggled to mend it. When she came back, a guard was barking at her.
“Answer the question!”
“Why you in here, Bitch?” someone was screaming.
“Uh…. stealing from my parents and drugs.”
“What kind of drugs?”
“Yeah, I’d be selling that ass real quick. Get you on heroin, sell your ass so you can pay for both our habits!”
The inmate could’t touch her according to the rules, and that was good for him. There was no way to control what would happen. She was too emotional. Pain killers helped, dills helped. She couldn’t let go, couldn’t-
One of the guards grabbed her roughly by the arm.
He let go quickly, looked at his hand and barked “move it”.
The female inmates weren’t quite as loud, but one of them made the same threat of selling her. She felt herself start to cry. It was too much, it was too much to fight the snapping, crackling hum in her head.
The day was a blur until meal time. The inmates and guards had taken to abusing the other kids. The other kids ignored her when she didn’t respond to their complaints.
At lunch, after they helped serve the meal, a tray was dropped in front of each of them.
She stared at the disgusting slop.
“Eat it, bitch, or you’re not going home!”
Waves of revulsion rocked her. She tried to obey, tried to force her hand to pick up the spoon, but it wouldn’t go. She was shutting down, the other was about to take over. She needed the pills, needed to be with the shitty people she did took them with, lowlifes who didn’t really matter to her. She needed to be away from the cameras, away from others who had a chance. She didn’t.
“Pick up that spoon and eat before we have to force feed you!”
She tried again, the buzzing came back, electricity flicked across her skin. Se was done. Done being screamed at, done feeling like shit for something that she already felt bad about and couldn’t control. She was done feeling like shit for being what she was. Her adopted parents couldn’t understand, the guards, the other lowlife kids, the inmates, her teachers, no one. No one could understand the weight that bore on her constantly.
“We don’t have all day! Pick up that fucking spoon!!”
“You’re not going home!”
She let go. Lightning exploded from her body, striking out at everything. The cameras caught fire and their operators jumped away. The bars hummed, singing loudly. The kids and guards ducked, not knowing what else to do.
She smiled. They were trapped, just like her. They couldn’t escape her any more than she could.

I’m not thrilled with this, but I wasn’t really in the right head space for it. Next week hopefully I’ll be a little more focused. She’s an electric elemental, one of the possible paths when powers start to emerge and there isn’t enough effort to understand/control them.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s