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A group of young offenders are sentenced to work community service at a dentition center...but after the first week there, they're all in a freak accident. They all come out unharmed but each offender seems to have a supernatural talent. What will happen when one of their own is murdered? What will Khristen do when she realizes she can stop it all?


"July 21, 2009; Day 7,

The councilor said it would be good to keep a journal...she said it will help her watch my progression or regression.

I've been in this hell hole for a week. A damn week and I already can't with until my sentence is over.

There are four others here, three boys and a girl. I've kept to myself for the most part, but I do know their names.

Jenna: The only other girl. She 5'5", like me. She has jet black hair, which is crazy curly.(That only she could pull off.) She said she's here for a DUI and minor sexual assault...on another girl..wow.

Cole: This boy is tall, almost 5'9". He has straight, dark brown hair which he spikes up in the front. He's almost 20, while I'm barley 18. He said he was sentenced here for possession of coke and honestly, I wouldn't doubt it. I may not know him that well, but he doesn't look like someone I would want to get involved with...he scares me.

Quinn: This boy is a bit taller than me, maybe 5'7" or 5'8". His hair is sandy blonde and wavy, which Jenna and I think is like, hello sexy. He's here for assault, on his step-dad.

Jackson: I don't know much about him, the only thing he's told us is why he's here. He was caught with Meth on school ground..dumbass. He may be stupid, but he's cute. He has straight blonde hair and the dark blue eyes.

Then there is the parole officer. He's black and buff. He's not all that scary, although her comes off slightly creepy. Like rapist creepy, but I suppose I'll get used to it. Out first job was to paint an entire stone room white, like what the hell?

~Khristen Rhea McDaniel."

...

I closed my diary and sat my pen down, we all had to do it, but why was I the only one who made sure I done it everyday? I sighed and shoved the small leather-covered book in my bag.

I looked around. We had been painting this room for a week, and it was almost finished. You could still see the graffiti under the newly coated white paint, but it looked decent.

I ran a hand through my dyed red hair and sighed. "This is so fucking stupid." I mumbled under my breath.

I looked up and Jackson was staring at my from across the room, his eyes seemed to flicker from brown to black. I quickly turned my attention to a boy who was clearly talking to me.

"Hey girl," Yelled Cole. I had to admit, he made my heart race. "Yeah you. Why ain't you helping us?"

"My name's Khris, either call me that or don't talk to me." I said to him and picked up a paint brush, dipping it in the can of white paint.

"Well," He eyed my chest. "Where'd your mom get the name Khris from? Isn't that a guys name?" He grinned teasingly and made a swift motion with his hand.

"I never said I wasn't a boy." I ran the brush over a stone, watching the white paint cover the graffiti.

Cole looked taken back, almost horrified. "Wha-"

"I'm kidding you dumb-ass. My name's Khristen, but everyone calls me Khris."

"So these are real?" Asked Quinn, who had stood next to Cole.

I was about to ask what he meant when he grabbed my chest and squeezed. "They feel pretty damn real to me."

I slapped him and started to say something, but the parole officer came up.

He was buff, like, hello buff. I could see the muscles coiling under his thin white t-shirt. Damn...

"Hello, my young outsiders." His voice echoed, breaking me from my unpure thoughts. "I see you've manged to finish your first task." He looked around the stone room and nodded in approvment.

Jackson rose from the bench he had been sitting on and growled, "If this is a good job, why are we still here?"

Jackson seemed to scare everyone, including the parole officer.

"Report to the bus." He said, watching each of us as we walked out, trying to avoid eye contact with Jackson.

Once we were outside, I looked up at the sky, it was getting darker by the minute. This wasn't normal weather.

The only light was the sun, which was boiling our skin.

"Maybe it's a tornado!" Yelled Quinn, but I shook my head.

"The wind isn't blowing hard enough for that." I turned and seen Jenna had already boarded the bus.

The three boys and I ran for the bus. I forcibly pushed past Cole and Quinn, taking my seat beside Jenna.

"What the hell's up with the weather?" Jenna asked, smacking her lips while she chewed bubble gum. "It's going to mess up my hair!"

It wasn't to long after she said that, the rain fell in sheets.

The parole officer ordered us to hold on in case we wrecked, Jenna instantly took my hand.

"Don't let me go.." She said, tucking a strand of dark red hair behind my ear. I nodded and moved my eyes forward.

He lost control.

I grasped Jenna's hand as the bus swerved sideways.

I stared out the windshield and I could make out the side of a cliff, dead ahead of us.

We were goners.

"Jenna!" I yelled, but it was too late I had lost my hold on her hand, I watched her body fly through the windshield.

A pang of guilt went through me, I told her I wouldn't let her go..I turned mt head to the side.

Next was Cole and Quinn, they looked so helpless. Their bodies flew forward and I could see them hitting the cliff.

I could feel the wind pushing me forward but I tried to keep a hold on the seat, I wouldn't let this happen to me.

Jackson flew forward, grabbing my arm.

"If I go, you're going with me." He said, his eyes seemed to be turning black.

I tried to pull away from him, but I could feel my body fly forward.

The glass was cutting into my back and stomach. I could feel the blood seeping through the jump suit and sharp pains in my head.

I blindly grabbed for something, someone, but the blackness had over powered me.

I was done for.