A boy, and then two girls, were over looking at Paula’s scars. They all lightly traced them from her legs up under her shorts.The boy said, “Those...have to be faked. They can’t all be that perfectly smooth, not after being skinned alive.”The kids in this PT room were all thirteen, or older, so I got out my phone to sync it to the TV near them as I said, “They’re completely real and I can prove it. I was there when they were cutting her open and then sewing her up.”I got the video from the robots. I ran as fast as I could in my high heels past the Indian into the opendoorway of the shop and grabbed a bottle off the nearest shelf, then Iran outside again.The Indian's back was to me. That immigrant fucking bastard was goingto kill my boyfriend unless I did something.I lifted the bottle over my head and smashed it down on the back of hishead. The glass exploded, covering both of us with liquor.And it was at exactly that moment that the police car screeched up infront of us.***The Indian's. More

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