Icon Journal (tuesday7) wrote in buffyangelrpg33,
Icon Journal


OK yeah, I’m Faith. And I see Fred in Rp-ing from Angel a few eps back. But I (faith) am not even in LA, or Sunny D yet so… Should I RP in jail? Well…I think we need more people. :)

Faith pondering in jail:

I thought I had made right choice, I thought I was doing the right think, for the first time in my life. I don’t anymore. I should have never listened to Angel, he was wrong. He doesn’t know what its like locked up in a little box, spending the hours fighting over cigarettes and soap with a hundred butch bitches. I took for granted what little I did have, the only parts of life I ever enjoyed I will never see again…. Unless I break out. I could, I could go back to Boston. I don’t need California; I don’t need LA, or Sunnydale or anyone. I would still slay, do the right thing, be good, help the helpless. I don’t need prison to restrain me. I wouldn’t kill, I would never kill again, I never meant to kill anyone. It wasn’t my fault. And know I have to pay. Why am I the one rotting in Jail and not Buffy and her little sidekicks. They’re just as screwed up as me! They sent me to jail, they locked me away. Sure, they gave me “the decision”, yea I’m the one that “chose to go to jail”. Bullshit, if I ever escaped they’d just send me back. But they need to pay. Little bastards, I did my time now it’s their turn. I can escape anytime I want to. That guard is right there, he’s lean, he’d go out like a light. I’d grab his rifle, knee him in the chest. Ram the gun right into his face and he’s gone. That other guard would see, he’d shoot, I’d dodge, he’d come closer. I’d trip him, and crack his back. He’s gone. Then the sirens scream, an army of guards would attack, but I would have already been out of site. I’d hop on that crate, take that old tarp, fling it over the barbered wire, and climb up over that fence into freedom. Over that fence into revenge, into a new life. I’d head straight for SunnyDale.

Guard: Alright Lady’s Times up, lets go!

That will never happen though. I can’t, if they ever caught me I’d be sent back. If I ever taste freedom they’d choke with prison. Never.
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