Criminal

Chapter One

There’s not a whole lot about me that’s likeable.

I’m defective. Most people wouldn’t know how to stereotype me, I’m sure, which is probably one of the prominent reasons why I’m not the most appealing person. I’m somewhere in between “hardcore bad-ass” and “homicidal maniac.”

I’ve always been bound for jail. I know it’s going to happen again soon.

I pop my gum. The smelly guy in the row of seats next to me flinches.

Popularity has never been a top priority for me, or even a priority at all. I like to be alone. I enjoy being feared. It’s something that I come by naturally, and I use it to my advantage whenever possible.

My gum has lost its flavor so I spit it out at “Barbie” three rows ahead of me.

SCORE! Right in the back of her head.

She lifted her hand back, touching the sticky solid in her hair.

Normally, one look at me and she would have whimpered pathetically and ignored the fact that she had green gum on the back of her head. Unfortunately for Barbie, she got to see my face from a different level than she had planned.

She stood up without glancing back at her attacker, moi, and whirled around to the aisle so fast that the movement of the subway had her falling on her face. I kicked my feet up on the metal bar in front of me, lounging.

The homeless shmuck next to me started snickering. It wouldn’t have surprised if he lived on this train car. He reeked like he hadn’t had a shower in over a decade, his teeth were brown and yellow, rotting out of his mouth. His “rags” were torn so much that they were barely hanging on him. But, all in all, he was pretty plump for a hobo, and his hairline receded so far back he almost didn’t have one.

I wondered if he had been an orphan, like me.

At first glance he looked like he could’ve been in his mid-sixties, but when you really took the time to look at him, he was probably closer to early thirties.

I observed all of this from the corner of my eyesight.

A girl like me can never stop watching her surroundings, or her back. The instant she does, someone gets the better over her.

I refocused most of my attention back toward the girl in the aisle.

“Get up and fight, Barbie!” I shout.

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