Bad feelings are one part of what sucks about this world. Good feelings are the other. Because the good stuff is what can get taken from you, the rug that gets pulled out from under you. A warming feeling that, once it's gone, leaves you out in the...
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M E G A N
After a series of interrogations—from both sides—the people allowed us to grab our things from our cells.
And because the new people clearly have other urgencies to deal with, I allow myself somewhat of a lingering presence in the dusty corner my old bunk. Bunk four.
The small room grants me my first few moments of privacy, without Gianna and Rosa witnessing my every move.
The other two girls are currently three cells down from me, in their old room as well. They were each other's bunk-mates long before I'd arrived at the detention center, resulting in a closer bond between the two.
"Let's go." The redneck, Daryl, stands tall, waiting in the doorway to my cell. An unfamiliar look about him as his crossbow stays strapped to his back, as opposed to its usual aim right between my eyes.
I sit up, slowly walking toward him with my arms folded in front of me. "Where to?"
"We're taking you and your little pals to see what this world is really like." He moves out of my doorway for me to get through.
Gianna and Rosa already wait for me by the door to the courtyard. The leader, Rick, then opens the door and I'm slightly overwhelmed with sunlight.
I lift my hand to shade my eyes from the beaming sun that I've been deprived of for nearly ten months. Before I can even see my surroundings, the putrid smell hits my nose. I can only figure that this is the scent of pure decay.
Once my eyes adjust to the light, the pre-set image I had in my mind of the once-familiar courtyard completely vanishes.
All over the courtyard are dead bodies. The concrete remains covered in splatters of blood from the dead. I walk around, even recognizing a few of the people until one in particular catches my eye.
"Good lord," Rosa mutters. "They're all dead." She says, taking in the gruesome surroundings.
"Never thought I'd be so happy to see these fences." Gianna says, trying to make the best of our new-found freedom.
I scan the ground with my eyes, looking for anything that can help me fully grasp the situation.
My glance lands on a bludgeoned body wearing a familiar-looking wooden bracelet. Her decayed wrist was now nothing but brittle bone.
I recognize the thin piece of jewelry from a woodshop class we used to take. The girl who owned it was in here for simple pickpocketing. She was a truly harmless person. The girl rode on the bus alongside me on the way to juvenile detention. We entered this prison together.
