My Ranking Points
The impressive stone door slowly opens with an ear-piercing creak, revealing gray stone walls and floors. To the left is the guard stations filled with policemen. One peers at me with interest. He couldn’t be any older than 17. Great. To the right, are the jail cells. A sense of déjà-vu swarms over me. It’s like the Institute all over again. The guards lead me to the group of policemen. They hand me off to an angry looking policewoman.
“New jailbird,” the guard still holding me shoots the woman a complicit look. She gives him a short little smile and takes me over to a small circular room I guess is the inspection room. There, she tells me to disrobe. I can feel her watchful eyes on me as I do so. Uncomfortable, I go as fast as possible. Then, she hands me an orange jumpsuit with the number 00674 on it.
“That means you’re prisoner number 00674,” she says as she takes my stuff.
Suddenly, my thoughts fly to my dagger. They’re going to confiscate it!
“Excuse me?” I exclaim.
The woman turns toward me, an eyebrow raised so high it’s almost intimidating.
“Umm, what will you do with my stuff?” I inquired.
She gifted me with a sly grin.
“Oh, some we keep, some we give… But some we burn,” she replied casually as she left the room, closing the door behind her.
I ran to the door, so anxious to see where my stuff is headed to that I hit my nose on the door.
“Ow! Great Mila, real smooth,” I mutter as twenty or so pairs of eyes fall on me. Some attempt to muffle their laughter, but I hear them from inside the room.
The woman comes back with a big document overloading with papers and post-it notes all over it.
“Follow me please,” she says as she pushes me forward. But unfortunately, my clumsiness got the better of me, and I fall straight for the ground, my head hitting the solid rock ground with a thud.
“Uhhh…” I groan.
The woman and the young boy lift me up and drag me to my cell, oblivious to the ****** mess that is my forehead. They lay me on my bed, and everything goes black.
I wake up groggily to the sound of an alarm ringing throughout the whole Institute. Immediately, I get up and walk to the closet, where I grab the first thing that my hand finds. I look at it and drop it immediately. Lucie’s hot pink dress falls in a large lump as I recoil away in disgust. Fully awake now, I grab my combat boots, leggings and tee-shirt and head to the bathroom.
“Stupid hot pink dress,” I mutter
Shoving Lucie’s products off the sink, I get dressed, brush out my hair quickly and put in my red headband. When I get out, Lucie is still sleeping, eye mask and all. Smirking, I grab her eye mask, yank and let it go. It snaps on her face, and she yelps. “Ow! Leave me alone, Meredith!” She screams.
I creep closer to her, whispering in her ear.
“You don’t want Miss Justine to give you a beating, now do you?”
She shook her head, so scared she was white. I love fear.
“THEN LETS GO!” I roar.
She scrambles away, picks up her dress from the floor and hurries into the bathroom. As she frantically gets ready, I pick off the cheap flowery wallpaper next to my bed. I had nearly gotten all off. Clic, clic, clic, clic. The noise comes from the hallway. Daily inspection. I knock at the bathroom door and warn Lucie.
“Tick tock….” I smile and stand up tall in front of my bed.
Suddenly Lucie runs out breathless just in time. The door opens and Miss Justine walks through to inspect us. Miss Justine is a tall, sharp cheek ***** woman with an adoration for high heels. Hair always in a tight bun, she punishes anyone who she thinks deserves it. Every morning, its inspection time. Though Miss Justine doesn’t care how our room is, she cares about how we look like.
“You need to look presentable if you want to have any chance at adoption. That way I could finally be rid with you all,” she lectures everyday. After a sharp investigation, she gestures to the stairs.
I take my time and fall into the orderly lines of children going down to the cafeteria. I grab my platter and sit down at the end of the table, and everyone moves away. I smile. Today’s breakfast is some sort of mush soup and stale toast. I sigh internally. Today is no different.
A sharp banging jolts me from my sleep. I takes me a second to realize where I am. But I do, and depression swells over me. I’m in jail. This is going to be a long day, I think.
“Hey you,” says someone. I look over to the cell door. There, a guard slips a tray of food under the door.
“Today’s lunch,” he adds, turning away and heading to the guard room again.
My head aches, and my stomach growls. When was the last time I ate? I throw myself to the food, ravenous. In three bites, I finish the slice of bread and the cold soup left on the platter. The meal leaves my stomach craving for more. I head back to the bed, and lay down on the hard mattress. I take a good look at my cell. The stone floors and walls are the same as everywhere else, so not much difference there. The metal bed and side table are on the right side of the room, while the left remains completely untouched. In the middle of the room lays a barred window. I flashback to the Institute and the girl.
“Ahhh,” I groan, touching my forehead. Now is not the time to be thinking so hard. My fingers have blood all over them. On the side table, there lays a damp, ****** cloth. I lay it over my forehead and breathe out. The sound of keys jingling doesn’t even bother me until I hear what the guard has to say.
“Visitor,” he calls out.
I look up, puzzled. Sasha meets my gaze with a devious smile. What is she doing here?
“Wow,” she smiles, pointing to my forehead. “Nasty fall.”
“What do you want?” I hiss.
“Now, Now, there is no need to be rude,” she sneers. “I only want to help.”
“Yea right,” I mutter.
She walks over to the bed and sits down. I scoot away from her.
“Come on, Mila. Can’t we be friends already?”
I don’t answer, looking at my feet.
“Fine,” she says. “We don’t need to be friends, but that doesn’t mean that I can’t help you out a little,” She whispered, pointing to the door. My mouths gapes open. The door isn’t closed! Before my excitement gets ahead of me, I stop.
“What’s in it for you?” I question.
Sasha smiles slyly.
“Ah, so you are interested,” she inquires.
“I never said that!” Now I’m on defensive mode. Calm down, Mila.
“Answer my question,” I repeat
“Nothing. Nothing at all! But you did get me that date with that cute guard in there.” She sighs and gestures vaguely to the other room.
“Now, do you have any changes of clothes in there?” She points to the side table. I open it, and she grabs a pair.
“Turn around,” she tells me.
“What are you doing?” I ask
“Taking your spot so you can run,” she replies.
“But how do I get past the guards?”
“Oh, don’t worry about them. They’re all ***** anyway”
Wow. She had really though of everything. Sasha looked at me expectantly.
“But what about you? Won’t they find out eventually?”
“So? My dad will get me out. Now what are you waiting for? Run!”
I head to the door, then pause.
She smiles. Running past the guards is easy. They’re all passed out ***** on their desks. I run for the door and feel the fresh air on my face. My heart swells up to Sasha’s goodness. Maybe she has a soul! I run and run, trying to decide where to go. And that’s when the cry comes.
“PRISONER!” Someone yells. I jump and sprint as fast as I can, but I’m not going to make it very far. Finally, I reach the start of the Woods. No one has dared to go into the Endless Woods since the tale of Sophie and Agatha. But this time, its not a matter of fairy tales. This is my life we’re talking about here.
“Hey! In the name of the Law, stop right there!” I glance back, taking one last look at the army of people in my tail and I enter the forest. But let me tell you, sprinting and showing vines, leaves and bushes out of the way are not a great mixture when you’re being chased by an angry mob of people trying to catch you and you have the worst balance in the world. Which is why I tripped, fell and hit my head. Again. As blackness closed in around me, all I could think was: Thank you, clumsiness.
Let me know if you want to be tagged! I’ve decided to repost this chapter because I don’t think a lot of you were able to read it with all the drama happening and because I post things so late (it was like 10:30 my time when I posted 😉 ) I REALLY want constructive criticism because I want to get better, so shoot!
That was an amazing chapter! I really can’t think of any criticism.
This is sooo good! Can you tag me next time? I love that you’ve used so much detail!☺