. She had imagined that prisons were white-tiled places, reeking of lime-wash and immaculately sanitary. When the word “FREAK” appeared scratched in the persimmon colored paint on her locker, she knew that in some fragile young woman’s mind a war had escalated from imaginary to physical. He had buckled on his hanger, and had two brace of pistols in his belt, as well as others in this holsters.
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