A Wolf's Kiss
It started as a sunny day. One whose start, whose awakening is remembered by all who see it. Yet as the day progressed, like so many things, it's beauty faded and the sun and warmth became cloudy cold. A green bus drives along a now slick dirt road. It's climbing higher into the mountains, farther away from society. The rain slashes back and forth on the bus's windshield
"Okay ladies, we're almost there, get your stuff ready" yells a large, sweaty woman at the front of the green bus, which reads 'Foster's Unitarian Correctional Kompound, one of it's former passengers having exchanged the 'c' in compound to a lovely red 'k', making FUCC, FUCK.
All the women, actually I should say girls, on this bus laugh and tell their stories of their fates and the things they did to earn their seat on this very bus. They embellish their tales with exaggerated numbers of things and colorful choice words. All the girls except one.
There is a girl sitting at the back of the fuck bus reading a worn copy of 'Much Ado About Nothing' by William Shakespeare. She's off in the comical world of Benedict and Beatrice, Hero and Count Claudio. It's as though the story is her one reminder that the world has happiness, for right now her's certainly doesn't. She's nothing much to look at. No colorful, braided, twisted let alone combed hair, no stylish clothes, no piercings or tattoos. She's short and round, and dressed all in various shades of grey. The girls who do notice her keep their mouths shut for fear that she may be a silent killer, one whose eyes with one look would cause flames to spout all over the other person's body. One who could quietly and effortlessly kill you while you slept. All the girls knew of such people and this girl fit into that category, after all you had to do something wrong to get on this bus.
The beautifully named bus arrives at it's beautifully named home. It is composed of several derelict bunk houses, a rusty metal cafeteria/auditorium/meeting hall/library, a director's office, and a pool whose water could use a cleaning and whose tiles have seen better days.
The rain has stopped. It is now just a shattering mist which leaves the skin cold and clammy but not soaked and refreshed as rain would.
The girls are called off the bus one by one and given their cabin assignments. They then wait outside the bus for the sweaty woman to lead them to sanctuary.
"Canderra, Peace" yells the sweaty woman from her post at the front of the bus. Her face is red and even more sweaty from all the yelling. "I hate my job" thinks the sweaty woman.
The quiet girl rises from her seat, all the other girls watch her with fascination. "Her name is Peace?" think all the girls, yet none dare to say it. She could very well kill them after all. Peace exits the bus and waits outside with the other girls.
"Diangelo, Moira" yells the sweaty woman
"Florence, Angela"
And so continues the woman until the entire bus is emptied of it's delinquent passengers. She too then exits the fuck bus and leads the swarm of girls to the cafeteria/auditorium/meeting hall/library.
It started as a sunny day. One whose start, whose awakening is remembered by all who see it. Yet as the day progressed, like so many things, it's beauty faded and the sun and warmth became cloudy cold. A green bus drives along a now slick dirt road. It's climbing higher into the mountains, farther away from society. The rain slashes back and forth on the bus's windshield
"Okay ladies, we're almost there, get your stuff ready" yells a large, sweaty woman at the front of the green bus, which reads 'Foster's Unitarian Correctional Kompound, one of it's former passengers having exchanged the 'c' in compound to a lovely red 'k', making FUCC, FUCK.
All the women, actually I should say girls, on this bus laugh and tell their stories of their fates and the things they did to earn their seat on this very bus. They embellish their tales with exaggerated numbers of things and colorful choice words. All the girls except one.
There is a girl sitting at the back of the fuck bus reading a worn copy of 'Much Ado About Nothing' by William Shakespeare. She's off in the comical world of Benedict and Beatrice, Hero and Count Claudio. It's as though the story is her one reminder that the world has happiness, for right now her's certainly doesn't. She's nothing much to look at. No colorful, braided, twisted let alone combed hair, no stylish clothes, no piercings or tattoos. She's short and round, and dressed all in various shades of grey. The girls who do notice her keep their mouths shut for fear that she may be a silent killer, one whose eyes with one look would cause flames to spout all over the other person's body. One who could quietly and effortlessly kill you while you slept. All the girls knew of such people and this girl fit into that category, after all you had to do something wrong to get on this bus.
The beautifully named bus arrives at it's beautifully named home. It is composed of several derelict bunk houses, a rusty metal cafeteria/auditorium/meeting hall/library, a director's office, and a pool whose water could use a cleaning and whose tiles have seen better days.
The rain has stopped. It is now just a shattering mist which leaves the skin cold and clammy but not soaked and refreshed as rain would.
The girls are called off the bus one by one and given their cabin assignments. They then wait outside the bus for the sweaty woman to lead them to sanctuary.
"Canderra, Peace" yells the sweaty woman from her post at the front of the bus. Her face is red and even more sweaty from all the yelling. "I hate my job" thinks the sweaty woman.
The quiet girl rises from her seat, all the other girls watch her with fascination. "Her name is Peace?" think all the girls, yet none dare to say it. She could very well kill them after all. Peace exits the bus and waits outside with the other girls.
"Diangelo, Moira" yells the sweaty woman
"Florence, Angela"
And so continues the woman until the entire bus is emptied of it's delinquent passengers. She too then exits the fuck bus and leads the swarm of girls to the cafeteria/auditorium/meeting hall/library.