Circle of fiends

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"Whatever, dickhead."

Ronan loved all things orange

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Ronan loved all things orange. Her hair, her cat, the fruit. It is the colour for enthusiasm, and motivation, all things you needed in the trentitouis wall of this place. She covered herself in the wretched jumpsuit, it was ugly. The shade wasn't right, it was clashing with her hair (which was wrapped in a black bandana), and it smelt of old cheese. Ugly. No part of her felt motivated, she just felt wrong.

Ronan sighed. Her jaw locked, teeth grinding. The girl's eyes worn to mauve, the blazing blue that aired a pleasant existence had faded to a deep beryl. She peeked at the people surrounding her, they were all beautiful, in their own way. The girl felt cowered amongst them, the radiants of their loud personality permeated the air. She touched up her black eyeshadow and sulked to the front of the building.

The bandits lined up in front of a man. Ronan stood, her posture sludged and her head low. She felt the light breeze kiss her face, fanning her hair as though it was one with it. "This is it." The man announced. "This is your chance to do something positive. Give something back."

Through the male speech the kids smirk, some looked fed up, the others were unreadable. "You can help people, you can really make a difference to people's lives. That's what community service is all about. There are people out there who think you're scum. You have an opportunity to show them they're wrong."

"Yeah, but what if they're right?" An Irish voice questioned. Ronan checked to see who it was. An male with curly, brown locks stood. He was tall, lanky, and quite fit if Ronan was going to tell the truth. "No offence. But I'm thinking some people are just born criminals."

"Are you looking to get stabbed?" This guy had a cap, and conveyed as a roadman.

"You see my point there?" Curly smirked.

A phone ring frightened the ginger girl, a female, beautiful with kinky hair. The cell had rang and she had picked up as though she was alone. "Hi."

"It doesn't matter what you've done." The man continued his speech, but Ronan couldn't concentrate as the tan girl yapped and chewed gum in her ear.

"Doing my community service." Phone chick kept chatting.

"Hey." The man raised,

"Boring as fuck."

"Excuse me. Hello, I'm still talking here." He asserted

"What, I thought you'd finished." The girl sassed, shrugging her shoulders.

"If you see my lips still moving, I'm still talking."

"Yeah, but you could be yawning, or chewing." Curly voiced.

"End the call. Hang up!" The man ordered. Ronan twitched at his tone, the hairs on her arm perk, the aura occupied a new mood, it made her skin crawl.

"My probation worker." She extended her conversation.

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