[JUNEBUG]↣ criminal minds

|one| : where she went.

Arabella Adams shut the television off. She sluggishly rolled out of the bed and onto the floor, being careful not to wake her roommate. She stretched out on the floor and extended her left leg in front of her, grabbing her toes and leaning into the stretch.

She switched legs, grabbing the foot of her prosthetic. She had lost it to osteosarcoma, an aggressive type of bone cancer, when she was 12. It was an above the knee amputation, an amputation that should have cost her a career in ballet.

Bella was a ballet dancer. She was a part time student at The Juilliard School, a school for the arts in New York City. She was also a part time intern at the FBI headquarters in Quantico, Virginia. Anyways, Getting her leg amputated would have, and should have been the end of her career as a dancer. But Bella was a fighter, and she didn't give up. With the help of her doctors and surgeons, she was able to dance again. She was unbelievably grateful. At the end of the day, dance was everything.

It was basically all she had. Dance, and her brain. Bella was a teenage genius. She graduated high school at age fourteen and now at seventeen, she was a profiler for the FBI. She was an orphaned genius, and an amazing dancer.

After stretching for the night, she laid back down in her bed. Or... not. After fifteen minutes of rolling around, she gave up. Bella grabbed her cell, headphones, and a pocketknife and tossed them into her bag before quietly leaving her dorm room.

Bella never would have left if she knew what was going to happen next.

She tiptoed down the hall and left the dormitory building, stepping into the chilly New York air. Bella walked quickly to central park, which was only a short three blocks from where she stayed.

Bella arrived, plugged in her headphones, and danced. She danced hip-hop and tap, but her heart had always been in ballet. The auditions for the Juilliard Ballet Recital were a week away, and Bella's teacher had specifically told her to go for the part. She practiced her solo for some time, before sitting down to adjust her prosthetic. She stood when she saw a group of men walking towards her.

She pulled out her headphones and watched them approach, her chest heaving. Whether it was from dancing, or fear, she couldn't tell. The men all had red bandanas. As in, The Devils bandanas. The news clip she watched half an hour ago played through her mind. they're going to kill me, she thought, there's no other way out of this except for them killing me.

"Hey, Junebug, what're you doing out here so late tonight?" Bella shivered at the nickname and watched a man walk out from the center of the group. Someone, as in the leader of the gang. Ash Ives. oh shit.

"I was just dancing, that's all," she said, sounding much more confident than she felt. He looked her over and took another step closer. The five feet between them was not enough.

"Well, you see," Ash Ives started, "I think you should do me a favor. Yeah, I think you could help. I'm gonna have to ask you to come with me," He said. As if what he was asking was anything Bella would comply with. Her blood ran cold and she shook her head no.

"I have auditions, in a week," she said sharply, taking a hesitant step back.

"That's too bad," Ash said tauntingly. He took another big step forward and got in her face. Bella remembered the pocket knife she had grabbed earlier and went to reach for it. Ash grabbed her wrist. "I wouldn't do that."

There was a three second lapse where no one did anything. Bella Adams, Ash Ives, the twenty or so guys behind them. No one moved. Then, Bella tore her arm away and spun from him, remindinging herself mentaly not to stop in first position. this isn't ballet, this is my survival, she thought.