9R.A.C.13

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and inciednts either are the product of the authors imagination or are used fictitously. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coindental.

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I do not own any part of the show "the mentalist" it is a televison show that belongs to CBS and you can catch new episodes sunday 10/9 central. Nor do i own "Lie to me" that show was discontinued and belongs to FOX, Also don't hold any claim to Walt Disney's 'Treasure Planet' no copyright infringement intented if you seeing me doing that please tell me so I can change it or take it down.Please don't steal my work or it will be taken down from wattpad. - public service announcement from the caretaker.

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"Nine R.A.C. thirteen, come here!"

"Yes ma'am" fear quivering in my voice and I think she could hear it. Her eyes were laughing at me as they almost always do when I submit, but it's not like I have a choice it's submit or they... they (menial sigh)

"9R.A.C.13 come here or you'll get another shocking only this will be public are we clear so all the other recruits can see"

"Yes ma'am, sorry ma'am" I say while hurrying to her side, trying to deflect what I call a devil glare. Not really original I know but... hahe. Oh no did that come out loud? That's it, it's over I'm gonna be publicly shocked, with me screaming my head off while they try and restart my perfectly fine brain.

Thankfully for me, I have a secret weapon; a way out of any where they put me. You see I made some teleporters. I was only asked to build one but I asked for more supplies then needed to make their teleport. Theirs is about as big as a laptop and us rigged to go to random locations half the time and to the basement the other half, no matter the coordinates imputed into it.

The basement is where I spend most of my time when working on a project of great difficulty or when I have a bad attitude towards a project; such as making a eclectic bomb the size of a pin. (designed those to go inert after twenty four hours.) It's pretty much a prison version of a fully stocked hotel room.

The second teleport I made is a ring that I wear on my pointer finger; it's totally water proof unlike the other one. Since the Government is so nice they allow us to keep our jewelry our own (cue sarcastic voice.)

It's off limits till we die then it's all theirs. The only catch is that it has to stay on us at all times, anything that touches government property is theirs which may or may not mean I'm government property.

Any way that brings me you why I'm thinking like that of what you'd find in a journal or a diary, because the government can take anything that they can touch. They can't take away my thoughts. Not yet any way not without not getting the results they want.

Back to the laugh I guess the bell won over my tiny laugh that wasn't supposed to be heard. When I allow myself to hear her again she's calm and speaking slowly as if she's' to speaking to a mental case. As if she thinks I finally cracked. I wonder why?

Eh, I'll find out soon enough. At the moment, I'm looking into her eyes and seeing fear for her life or her job. I don't know which, but it's definitely not fear for me or my mental health. She hates me too much for that.

I've mentally written trough all she was saying, and don't know where she's is taking me. Oh I hope it's not to the hospital wing maybe she really doses think I've gone nutty. I also hope that they don't start the electroshock therapy they hang over my head all the time. I've only gotten in trouble once and only once. I never want to have it done ever again it's very ..., very painful.