Beyond All Rules ✔️

Prologue

KENNEDY

Rapid banging on the cell bars rouses me from a disturbed slumber. I sit up, my bones cracking in protest from sleeping in an awkward position all night and rub my eyes to clear my crusty lids.

Why? I do not know. It's not like there's much to look at in this tiny, cold, smelly cell that I've been locked up in for the past... I don't know how many hours. I lost track of time after the first three hours.

"Foster, you're free to go." The middle-aged policeman with a permanent sneer on his face informs me.

The news of my release should please me but only dread fills my heart at what is to come as soon as I leave the police station. I know for a fact that I am much more safer in this stinky cell than I will be out of it.

"Did I make bail?" I ask standing up.

My legs wobble but the officer makes no move to help me. I've been immobile for hours, sleeping on a steel bench without as much as a mere blanket to shield me from the cold.

"Charges were dropped." Mr. Grouchy-Pants answers reminding me of the privilege that comes with being a Foster.

I can clearly see that his name is Officer Barry but he's been mean to me from the moment he booked me in and I do not owe him any kindness.

"Bye cell, you were the least cold one yet." I comment with an ominous sad smile on my face.

"Yet! Little girl how many times have you been arrested?" Mr. Grouchy-Pants asks me.

"Wouldn't you like to know Officer Blurry." I reply with a fake grin as I follow him out of the cell block.

"It's Officer Barry." He corrects me clearly irritated by my mispronounciation of his name.

I don't say anything in response feeling extremely tired after being locked up too long for my liking.

Once we get to his desk Officer Barry hands me release forms to sign and gives me back my belongings. I check the time on my watch and realize that I've been in jail for thirty six hours.

Took them long enough this time.

"See you around Officer Burty. Or not." I say to Mr. Grouchy-Pants with a fake sickeningly sweet smile.

He groans in aggravation looking very tempted to tase me or toss me back into the smelly cell for a couple more hours.

"For both our sakes I hope not." He replies choosing not to correct me on his name again. "Stay out of trouble kid, you're far too young and privileged to be throwing your life away like this. Many would trade places with you but you're squandering it and for what? A blunt of weed?!" Mr. Grouchy-Pants scolds.

"It was really good weed." I grin mischievously.

No it wasn't. I hated it from the first puff but he doesn't need to know that. I have a reputation to maintain.

He rolls his eyes at me and I see him grip the pen in hand tighter. I step back as a precaution in case I've angered him enough for him to actually stab me with it.

"Learn from this experience otherwise soon rather than later you'll be dead in a ditch somewhere from an overdose which will be a pity for your family." Mr. Grouchy-Pants insists.

A solemn look graces my face as I drop the fake-smile mask. "They don't care enough and about that privilege you are talking about; I'd trade it for a normal life any day."

With that I walk away from his desk and across the station the same way I came in.

The sense of dread returns once I walk out of the police station to find a familiar face waiting out front.