“Oh my goodness, I am so ready to leave.” Mona paced her way around the room, flipping her blonde hair over her shoulder. That was a habit Mona had,flipping her hair and then combing it away from her face with her fingers. It annoyed the hell out of Roxie. Though they were twins they were nothing alike.

“Could you NOT pace? It’s friggin’ annoying.” Roxie seethed. Her long legs were spread like a guy’s as she leaned against the white wall. Her hair was pulled back in a loose side ponytail and the bangs she cut herself flopped into her face annoyingly. She pulled at the waist of her army green pants.
“Roxie, you know I hate small spaces!”
“And you know I hate when you whine.”
“What are we gonna do?” Mona plopped down on the floor, about to cry.
“God.”Roxie groaned as she looked down at Mona. They were twins, but Roxie swore she was at least three years older. She crouched down and looked Mona in the eye. “Look, babe, here’s what we’re gonna do. When they come in here to let us out, I’m going to tackle them. When I get the first guy down, you run. Run as fast as your scrawny ass can, back home, back to mom and dad.”
“What about you,Roxie?”
“What about me?”
“You’re not coming?”
Roxie scoffed. “Nah, baby girl. I got things to handle. I’m not coming with you, but trust me when I say I’m getting the hell out of here.”
“But where are you going, then?”
Roxie stood up again. “You remember Colt.”
“Colt, your ex-boyfriend.”
“Mhm.”
Mona closed her eyes and tried to remember what exactly Colt looked like. She’d only met him, one or two times, but she remembered everything about him. His eyes were a mean, hard, slate blue that were set deep in his face, and he had black hair, not curly, but not wavy either.His jawline was sharp and chiseled, his mouth always either set in a sarcastic smirk or a scowl. His voice was low and gravelly, the voice of a smoker, or someone who went to way too many concerts. He was intelligent as well, probably too smart.“I don’t like him Rox,” Mona said, suddenly.
“And you think I do?”
“Why are you going to see him?”
Roxie tapped her fingers against her leg. This was a nervous habit she had, and Mona could always tell she was thinking of a lie when she did this. “We just: need to talk.” she stated simply.
“Roxie,don’t do anything stupid.”
“Well that means I have to stop talking to you then.” Roxie winked.
Mona stood up beside Roxie and bumped her hip. “Seriously,girl. I don’t want to lose you again. We’re sisters. I love you.”
Roxie nudged her back. “Mm. Ditto.”

They stood together silently for some time, just thinking, and waiting. Mona began pacing again. Roxie rolled her eyes sarcastically. The room glowed with synthetic fluorescent lighting against the walls and the floor. Roxie took a second to examine the room and plan her attack  A small girl of five feet two inches, and petite, the intake guys weren't going down easy, but maybe, just maybe, if she got the right amount of momentum ,she could catch them off guard and knock them off their feet. Looking at Mona lying on the floor playing with her hair, she considered something.

“Mona?”
“Hmm?”, Mona responded. She stopped paying with her hair long enough to look up at Roxie.
“Don’t think about staying behind with me.”
Mona sat up.“Rox…”
“I mean it,Mona.”
She pouted. “You know Roxanne, I’ll do whatever the hell I want. Just because you’re 10 minutes older than me, doesn’t mean you’re the bo-”
Roxie’s head snapped toward the direction of the the door, where a quiet scratching was beginning to originate. “Mona, shut up.” she whispered. She took a few steps back and squared her shoulders. The door opened softly, and a tall bald man in a blue shirt entered the room. “Roxanne, it’s time for lunch.”
At that moment she leaped on him, bringing him to his knees in two seconds flat. The man grunted.
“Code 5! Code 5!” he yelled. She punched him in the mouth.
Turning around to look at Mona she screamed “Run Mona! Run!”
Mona sat on the floor, silently crying. At that moment two more individuals, a man and a woman also wearing blue shirts, rushed in the room. The two men  pinned Roxie to the floor. She was still screaming.

“MONA! GET OUT OF HERE! RUN! GO FIND MOM!”

Mona still sat on the floor, tears streaming from her green eyes. One of the people looked at the spot where Mona was sitting. “Roxanne, are you talking to Mona?”

“DON’T TALK TO ME AND DON’T YOU DARE TOUCH HER.” Crying, she tried to wrestle free from their grasps. Unfortunately, the men only held her down tighter. She began to hyperventilate. “MONA, GET YOUR ASS OUT OF HERE!” she screamed with all she had left.

The woman looked her in the eye. The wrinkles on her face frowned with  condescending concern as she looked back to where Mona was sitting and then back to Roxie, pinned down, in green pants and a top. Finally she spoke.

“Roxanne, look at your wrist.”

Roxie did. She lifted her arm slightly and saw the white band encircling her wrist. ‘Roxanne Sarah Wern,’ it read. ‘DOB: 6-7-1996 Ethnicity: White Date of Intake: 5-8-2013’.

As soon as the woman saw the look of confusion in Roxie’s eyes, she recited  the speech as she or one of her other co workers did every week.

“Roxanne, Mona’s dead. She died three months ago. They found her in a ditch the day after you left her with Colt at the party.”

Roxie was speechless for a second. “No, no, no. She’s right here! Mona tell them you’re here, tell them you’re not dead, please-” But when she looked back at Mona, all she saw was the white padded floor.