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Viewing Single Post From: Life's a Beach
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personification of adhd
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Before she could even attempt to explain herself, there was a shout. Before she could even register what had happened, only just recognizing that someone else had arrived on the scene, there was a dull thud. She watched in the almost overdramatic, OTT slo-mo that one sees in pictures, at least it would have had Aston been in the right state of mind.

Then there was speaking.

The girl, Michelle or something, she'd started to go on about him needing to be quiet.

She listened as everything happened. The new guy screamed, waving another gun about. Aston just stood there, watching, still. The girl started speaking again, but all Aston could hear was echoes. She was still standing there.

And then, the moment she was given the chance to speak, Aston did what she knew best now.

She raised her gun to Michelle's direction, and spoke again.

"Drop the crowbar."

A beat.



"And so, that's what you'll be doing here every weekend, Aston!" The laid-back middle-aged woman sat back down and grabbed the idle water bottle from the lunch desk and taking a sip.

It was Aston's first day at the pet shelter, and she was feeling nervous. She knew that she'd be a great volunteer, but she needed to really know how to take care of these animals, so that they would get a good home. She'd been shown the various cages and homes for each animal, and even gone so far as to get her annoculations for the various diseases she might accidentally bring in. Everything she needed to do had been done, she'd spoken to the adoption agency about her own pets, she'd met the regular team, and she'd even gone through and fed some of the animals that were available for visiting.

"Okay, so how do you like the shelther Aston?"

"It's great! I'm gonna love helping out here!"

"That's wonderful. So what times do you reckon you'll be able to help out here?"

"Uhh, I think maybe some days after school, and definitely on weekends, I don't have much to do then."

"Okay, so let me just go and get your name tag, and you'll be ready to come in whenever you need to!"

As the woman in the gumboots went into the backroom, Aston smiled and bounded over the waist-high gate once again. She had to get a good look at some more of the animals here. A small dog walked up to her from the back of it's shelter, and peeked it's nose through the bars. Still not sure of the procedure, but almost certain she wasn't contagious, Aston bent down on her knees and rubbed the dog on the nose, smiling. It was going to be wonderful working here.

A bird was enclosed in a shelter of it's own to Aston's left, so she shuffled over to it's cage. She smiled again, and made the clicking noise that she'd seen on Skippy that one time. She was so glad she found that on youtube, it was pretty entertaining stuff. The bird fluttered around in it's large enclosure for a while, and Aston was happy.

Still shuffling to her left, she peeked into the next cage.

What she saw was...not something that she should have been able to see.

A young border collie was lying limp on the small bed it was given, not moving except for breathing. Aston wasn't a dog expert, but...she could tell it was in pain. She could see the faint outline of stitches in it's head, but not a small amount, what looked like...it's head had been bashed clean open.

"We rescued this poor guy from his owner."

The woman in the gumboots was standing over her shoulder. Aston didn't even realize she was there.

"The guy who was supposed to be taking care of this poor fellow didn't know how to keep him quiet. When he barked loudly at night, he'd take a rock from the backyard and beat it until it was unconsious. We found him before the damage became irreversable, but...we're afraid if he doesn't get better, we may have to put him down."


"I know, sweetie. We do what we can here, but sometimes we can't save everyone."


"-I-I MEAN DROP THE FUCKING CROWBAR!" Aston screamed towards her newest enemy. No one did that for such inane reasons. Shut him up? NO. No one dared to even do such a thing around someone like her. Aston could understand her doing it if he was hostile, but not like this, not like this, for fuck's sake.

"If you don't drop the fucking crowbar, I'm going to shoot you. I'm gonna give you to the count of 5. If you don't drop, you're dead."

Aston didn't really care what happened to her now. Someone who did that to anyone for such a superflous reason had no way of earning her trust or respect anymore.

Licking her lips nervously, she counted.

Edited by Brackie, Nov 10 2010, 07:14 AM.
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I can't sing but I wrote you a song

Wrong notes but the melody's so clear

When I'm lost, I'm still close to gold

cause I found my treasure in you
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Life's a Beach · The Beach: East