- Posting Speed
- Multiple posts per day
- 1-3 posts per day
- One post per day
- 1-3 posts per week
- One post per week
- Writing Levels
- Intermediate
- Adept
- Advanced
- Adaptable
- Preferred Character Gender
- Female
- Genres
- Fantasy, modern, realistic, mystery, horror
Layla ran, the world around her a blur. She looked behind her, seeing two guards in black and three police running after her. She clutched her bag of Beats headphones, money, and other stolen things as she turned around, bumping into another cop in front of her, making her stumble backwards at full force and drop her bag. The police didn't hesitate to grab her arms and fight against her as she tried to get away, screaming and yelling for them to let her go.
This wasn't her for time stealing, or committing a crime for that matter. Layla, despite being born with a proper name and raised a good and girly girl, had turned out... different, than planned. Her gorgeous brown hair had been dyed black with pink and blue, she had gotten cartilage piercings as well as a belly button one and a snake bite lip piercing. At fifteen, she was well known at the police department. She was always a reoccurring problem. This time was no different.
The guards from the store grabbed the bag on the floor, collecting the stolen items inside. Lay tried to run at them, but was still held back. "No! Don't take it it's mine!!" "Please calm down and step in the car." A police said as they practically dragged her towards it. "Stop it let me go!!" A cop rolled his eyes and pulled out his taser, proceeding to use it on her. Layla fell to the ground, going unconscious from her body shutting down from the overwhelming pain.
Hours later.
Layla opened her eyes and blinked, looking around. She wasn't surprised; she recognized her setting. She was in a chair in the waiting room of the police station. She was all alone it seemed. In the room that is. Layla got up and walked to the front desk. "Yes Miss Presley?" The man said. He was usually the only one that was nice to her. But he could be mean when he needed to. He sounded annoyed.
"Yeah. What's going on? Can I leave?" She stuffed her hands in her jacket pockets. "Actually, no. You won't be leaving alone today." "Am I on probation again?" "Let me speak. They're trying something 'new' with you this time." "..." "I heard them talking. They're gonna put you with another foster parent or two." "Wha-" "BUT, this time, your foster parent is a therapist. They apparently work with kids and think they'll be able to get you in check." "WHAT?! I'm FINE. I'm alive aren't I? I don't need anyone I'm fine being alone, by MYSELF." She stormed off to the seats, plopping down and crossing her arms. "I should just walk out you know that?" "You probably shouldn't..." The man at the desk said, looking up to see and officer and Layla's new foster parent(s) walking toward the waiting room.
((Sorry, this sucked.))
This wasn't her for time stealing, or committing a crime for that matter. Layla, despite being born with a proper name and raised a good and girly girl, had turned out... different, than planned. Her gorgeous brown hair had been dyed black with pink and blue, she had gotten cartilage piercings as well as a belly button one and a snake bite lip piercing. At fifteen, she was well known at the police department. She was always a reoccurring problem. This time was no different.
The guards from the store grabbed the bag on the floor, collecting the stolen items inside. Lay tried to run at them, but was still held back. "No! Don't take it it's mine!!" "Please calm down and step in the car." A police said as they practically dragged her towards it. "Stop it let me go!!" A cop rolled his eyes and pulled out his taser, proceeding to use it on her. Layla fell to the ground, going unconscious from her body shutting down from the overwhelming pain.
Hours later.
Layla opened her eyes and blinked, looking around. She wasn't surprised; she recognized her setting. She was in a chair in the waiting room of the police station. She was all alone it seemed. In the room that is. Layla got up and walked to the front desk. "Yes Miss Presley?" The man said. He was usually the only one that was nice to her. But he could be mean when he needed to. He sounded annoyed.
"Yeah. What's going on? Can I leave?" She stuffed her hands in her jacket pockets. "Actually, no. You won't be leaving alone today." "Am I on probation again?" "Let me speak. They're trying something 'new' with you this time." "..." "I heard them talking. They're gonna put you with another foster parent or two." "Wha-" "BUT, this time, your foster parent is a therapist. They apparently work with kids and think they'll be able to get you in check." "WHAT?! I'm FINE. I'm alive aren't I? I don't need anyone I'm fine being alone, by MYSELF." She stormed off to the seats, plopping down and crossing her arms. "I should just walk out you know that?" "You probably shouldn't..." The man at the desk said, looking up to see and officer and Layla's new foster parent(s) walking toward the waiting room.
((Sorry, this sucked.))