Total pages in book: 48
Estimated words: 46398 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 232(@200wpm)___ 186(@250wpm)___ 155(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 46398 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 232(@200wpm)___ 186(@250wpm)___ 155(@300wpm)
I don’t need them, anyway. Out. Get out. That’s all I need to do.
But where is she? I can’t leave without her.
There’s a crowd in the narrow hallway. Some of the girls are out there, too. I don’t see her, but she has to be with us. I can’t go against the current of all these people myself.
It’s too loud to hear myself think. Staff members are shouting. More punches are being thrown. They can’t get all of us. There are too many of us. We’re going to get out.
I hit the fresh air and follow the kid in front of me.
We run and run and run.
I have no idea where we’re going.
The riot starts because of Mr. Jay, but it ends because of the cops.
The sirens wail in the distance.
“The cops!” one kid screams out and runs the other way. Some kids run towards the cops, waving them down.
I search the crowd, even though I’m one of the first ones out, I can’t leave without her.
The cops come out of nowhere. The first thing I see is flashing lights, and then there are cars in every direction. A few kids split off and sprint away from the road. I trip over another kid and end up on the ground in the middle of the road. In shock, I watch as they pile out of so many cars. A dozen… maybe more.
They scream at us. They pull out guns at us. The voices all seem to meld together.
I forgot, for a small fraction of time, I forgot we were the bad ones. A cop puts his foot in the middle of my back and pins me there while he cuffs me.
“Fuck,” I whisper. Yelling will make this worse, but fuck. We were so close. I cry out that they need to help us. Fuck, I beg them to help us. But there is no help for kids like me.
Before I can think right, I’m shoved into the back of a cop car with three other guys. The drive to the nearest police station isn’t as far as I thought it would be. That’s the most disappointing thing of all. I thought we were in the middle of nowhere this entire fucking time and had no chance to get to anyone who could help, and it turns out they were right fucking there.
“Call the parents,” one of the cops shouts over the noise inside the car. Some of the other kids are trying to explain. They’re begging. Begging. I don’t say anything. “We need to get in contact with the parents here.”
My dad. Please for fuck sake, let me talk to my dad.
“That won’t happen,” the officer behind the desk says. “Protocol is to send them back. You’re in the custody of the program.”
What the fuck? They have a protocol for if kids escape that hellhole?
It’s then the stench of fear fills the cabin of the parked police car.
“You’ll stay here until we have eyes on all of the minors. We’ll charge the ones who started it with assault,” the cop tells us, pointedly looking into our eyes. “Was it one of you little shits?” he asks and I’ve never felt hopelessness like I do now.
The other kids scream out what they’re doing. The kid on the far right won’t stop crying. And I sit there, knowing what waits when we get back. I could fucking throw up.
“I think we need to call the parents,” the first cop argues, standing outside the car. It’s too fucking hot back here, I need to get out. I need out of here.
“The school will contact their guardians. We need to get them back.”
“Please,” one of the kids shouts. “Contact our parents, please! Let me talk to them!”
“Protocol,” the cop who’s seemingly in charge says. “We have to release you to your custodians.”
The kid to my left, the one who’s been blabbing says he’s got to throw up.
At least they let him out for that.
Fuck… I need to find a way out. We’ve got to get the hell away from this place and hide. I’ll hide forever to never have to go back.
HALEY
With barely any sleep and a long day in the office where my mind wandered too much and focus was hard to come by, I come through my front door with my head fuzzy and my body exhausted. I didn’t sleep well last night after the call from my mom. I swear the stairs creaked and floors groaned all night, like the threat of someone sneaking around.
I had to remind myself, they’re just the sounds my house always makes. Sometimes the floor creaks and the wind blows on the roof. There was nobody there.
Even if something inside of me refused to believe that. Even if my pulse was panicked and sleep brought me terrors. When morning came, I was just fine and there was no one else there waiting in a dark corner.