jojo's bizarre adventure oneshots!

foo fighters - teach me to love

Author's note! There will be strong language at some points of this one shot!

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Another day in Green Dolphin Correctional Facility. Another day of being locked away, with freedom so close, only beyond a wall of metal bars. The crime you committed to be enslaved here? To be frank, manslaughter. But it wasn't like you had done it intentionally! The gun you were holding was loaded, unbeknownst to you at the time. Of course, your attorney was just a public defense, so he didn't even manage to make you look at all innocent. It would have been better if you had defended yourself; that attorney made you look more guilty than innocent. When you got out, you were going to put that lawyer in a world of pain.

"Oi! 11903-N! Step back from the fence!" A guard shouted with a taser pointed at you, waking you up from your daydream. You must have been unconsciously walking towards the metal gate. It was a habit, you supposed. Walking towards freedom, only to be slapped back into the cage you were in. This was absolute bullshit! It wasn't your fault! It was that damn attorney who had screwed you over like this! But the guards, what did they care? Money was their only concern.

With a sigh, you backed away from the gate, a grimace crossing your face. The guard raised an eyebrow, taunting you even further. She ordered you to stand in front of her, so you did. As soon as you were face to face, she backhanded you across the face so hard you had fallen over, blood trickling from your cheek. "Don't you ever give me that look again, you ugly thing." She sneered, kicking you with her dirty boot. "You're the scum here, so remember that." She eventually walked away, and your hatred for her grew even more. She only ever bullied you and acted like an angel to anyone else. What the fuck?!

Standing up slowly, you wiped the blood from your cheek, ignoring the stares from the other inmates. What did you care about them? They didn't help you or care about you, so you wouldn't care about them either. Making your way to the sports area, you saw your only place of stress relief: the tetherball. Smacking that ball around was not only a good way to release all the pent up emotions you had, but also a good way to work out your arms. If anyone tried to fight you, you could just imagine it as another game of tetherball. Dodge left, dodge right, smack down. It sounded like a good plan to you.

Imagining the tetherball as that guard's face, you swung. The ball flew back, making it's way right to you. Ducking, you let it swing again before slapping it around again. The ball went faster and faster, until it wound itself around the metal pole the string was attached to. You felt a little better, and decided to go for another game. The ball unwound itself, ready to be hit again. This time, you envisioned the ball as that lawyer's face. That piece of shit that had taken away your freedom in exchange for gross slop and a stiff cot.

With your mental image and rage in check, you slapped the ball again. You imagined the ball as the lawyer this time, his skinny and frail little body flying off from the sheer force of your power. It was fun to imagine the people who hurt you and who you despise being beaten into a bloody pulp, right? Back and forth you hit the ball, all your fury dissolving into a slow physical fatigue.

While you were smacking the ball around, you heard something that you hadn't heard in a long time. It was the sound of your name, your real name. You looked up and around, trying to figure out who had said your name. When you turned back around to the tetherball, though, you were met with the tetherball colliding with your face. The force and power of the ball was so strong it knocked you out, the crack of the searing pain soon fading away into darkness as you fell over.

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When you woke up, your head was aching horribly and it was painful to move your jaw. You were in white sheets and on an actual mattress. You had forgotten that people slept on comfortable mattresses, not stiff cots of old cotton. The sheets smelled fresh, and the odd smell of medicines and doctors wafted in. Were you in the infirmary ward? Trying to sit up, you leaned against your elbow, looking around the room.