by Bella King
“Yep. She’s one of the regulars here. You just can’t keep some of them out. I hope a few days without friends is going to help you get back on track,” she replied, addressing the guard and then me.
I sighed. “I didn’t do anything wrong.”
“Sure, you didn’t,” she said sarcastically. “The last name is Briar, correct?”
I nodded.
The woman looked at the guard before filling in my details on her computer. “Take her straight to solitary. She’s getting a double sentence.”
“What?” I exclaimed. This was crazy. I didn’t want to be locked up for four whole days. I needed to take my plan B and find out what happened to Angela.
“You have a lot to learn, sweetheart,” the lady at the desk said, her voice high and condescending.
Fuck that bitch. She was on my personal hit list if I ever joined the mafia as my father had done. I wondered if he had hits on anyone. I was going to have a lot of time to wonder about things while I was locked up on my own for four days straight. I genuinely thought that I might lose my mind.
“You need to change into uniform and leave your clothes outside the cell. I’ll be back in a few minutes to collect them,” the guard said as he opened up a thick metal door that led to the set of solitary confinement cells.
I counted the cold, artificial lights on the ceiling as I was led down the corridor to the end of the hallway. There was a single room there with a bright orange uniform folded on the simple bed. The guard uncuffed me and pushed me inside, closing the door to allow me the privacy to change. I was surprised he didn’t insist on watching.
I dropped my pants and pulled off my shirt, leaving them in a messy pile on the floor. I quickly pulled myself into the orange jumper and buttoned it up, looking around the room that would be my home for the next few days.
Two steps forward. Two steps back. That was the amount of room I had. There was a metal toilet next to the bed, and a small table where I was expected to eat my meals. I single light on the ceiling illuminated the small room, guarded by a scratched-up plastic dome. I had a blanket and a thin pillow, but that was all.
I was certain that I would go mad. With no window to enjoy natural light out of, and no clock to check the time, I was going to be lost to the world for the next four days. It was horrifying, and only just starting to sink in. Reality wasn’t my friend.
I heard the slow and heavy footsteps of the guard returning. The door came up once again, and he snatched up my clothes, glancing at my neck once he had stood back up. “I’m going to need the jewelry as well,” he said, pointing to my throat.
I clutched the heart pendant in my hand. I didn’t want to remove it. It was my mother’s, and I couldn’t trust the guard not to lose it. I shook my head. “It’s important to me,” I argued, trying to gain sympathy.
“Well, it’s important to me that you listen to what I say, or this is going to get a whole lot harder for you,” he said, an edge of annoyance in his voice.
“Please,” I said, feeling emotional at the thought of losing something so precious to me.
The guard frowned and reached for my neck, yanking the chain so that it broke off my neck. I yelped and clawed at it as he pulled the necklace away from me.
“You’ll get it back when you get out,” he said, slamming the cold metal door in my face.
“Fuck you,” I shrieked through the grate in the door.
The guard didn’t respond. His footsteps faded away down the hall, and all was silent once he went through the door at the end of it. I was alone, and I would stay that way for a long time.
I sat down on the bed as tears began to build behind my eyes. It shouldn’t have been such a dramatic scene, but everything added up to make me more emotional. The guard had broken my mother’s necklace, I had lost Emily, and the revenge hadn’t made me feel better, and on top of all that, I was locked up at risk of becoming pregnant from a man who I didn’t even know if I trusted.
Well, if I was going to be locked up for so long, I might as well let the sorry out. Nobody would see me cry. I could afford to show my weakness now that I was alone. My throat tightened, and heat rose to my face as I began to sob. I placed my head in my hands and let it all out, tears rolling down my forearms as I cried.
My nose was sniffly, and my eyes were itchy after a few minutes of bawling my heart out. The only thing I had to wipe them was the skimpy single-ply toilet paper setting on the table and my scratchy sheets. I opted for sheets because I didn’t want to waste the paper. I doubted I would be getting any more during my stint in solitary confinement.
The fabric was rough against my nose, but the pain felt nice in a way. I had always been a slight masochist, and I found that it took the edge off the emotional pain. It was a fair swap.
I took a deep breath as the tears slowed down and tried to think about what I was going to be doing for the next four days. I wouldn’t be missing the exam, thank god, but I was going to have to find a way to occupy my mind that didn’t involve bashing my head against the concrete wall until my skull cracked.
I had a lot to worry about, and plenty of time to do it. I pushed the bad things into the back of my head and looked up at the wall in front of me. There was no mirror to see what I looked like, so I couldn’t position myself in front of it to shame myself into sucking it up. I used to do that a lot after my mother died. It’s a lot harder to cry when you see how ugly you look doing it.
I went through many emotions before I was given dinner. I was sad, angry, hopeless, and finally, as I had assumed, bored out of my goddamn mind. I just hoped that tomorrow I would be able to find something to do to occupy my tired mind. I couldn’t just sleep for four days straight.
Dinner came as the same bland food that we were served in the cafeteria, except that it was cold. I suppose carrying to from the detention center was enough to cool it down. I didn’t think it could get much worse than what I was used to, but I was wrong. I had been wrong about a lot of things.
I didn’t finish my dinner, pushing the half-eaten food out of the thin slot at the bottom of the door after a few minutes of picking at it. I climbed into bed and closed my eyes, trying to wish away everything that had happened to me. I couldn’t stand to be this way. I felt like a failure.
A year ago, I had been better off. I wasn’t happy back then, but I wasn’t miserable like I was now. Enduring Bayside Academy made me appreciate the struggles that I went through before I was locked up. It all seemed so petty compared to this. I hoped I wouldn’t feel the same way about Bayside when I got out.
I laid on a bed that was too short and stared at the gray ceiling, counting the cracks and bumps above me. I wished that I could turn out the light so that I could fall asleep, but it wasn’t under my control. I assumed that the light was automatic, like most of the other lights at the school. It shut off during quiet hours and turned back on when the day began.
It wasn’t cold in the cell, but I wanted to have the blanket to keep me covered. I felt safer with it stretched over my body, as though it could protect me from the world. The truth was, the worst parts were already inside of me, eating away at my mind and soul as I lay in the cell alone. I couldn’t get away from myself.
I zoned out while staring at the ceiling, and after what seemed like a lifetime, the lights turned off. I could finally sleep. I closed my itchy red eyes and turned over on my side, curling up like a shrimp in the bed so that my feet wouldn’t hang off the end anymore. My restless mind found peace as I drifted into the dream world.
Chapter 17
The broken necklace, smelly sneakers, and the clothes that I had been wearing when I got caught in the hallway after school were waiting for me at the end of my final day in solitary confinement. I couldn’t say that I had really learned my lesson because there was little to learn besides doing a better job of avoiding security, but I was determined not to spend another second in detention again. I wasn’t cut out for the lonely life of a criminal. I could leave that to
people like Trent and Lisa.
I was sent out of the detention center before the final bell rang, giving me time to make my way back to the dormitory without getting caught in the hallway after the school had closed again. It was all so cold and clinical like they didn’t care about the rehabilitation of students at Bayside so long as they were getting a paycheck.
It felt a bit gross to be wearing the same clothes that I come in with, but I was relieved to finally be out. Four days of staring at the wall and thinking about everything that had gone wrong was a good use of my time. The horrible things tucked into the back of my mind were able to creep out during that time and take over my thoughts. No more.
I wanted to see Trent first because I wasn’t going to be able to see Lisa without the money that I needed for plan B. I doubted its effectiveness this far along, but it was all I could do to take it and hope for the best. I lingered outside of his classroom, waiting for him to exit so that I could see him again.
I was nervous about seeing him after what we had done. Even though he had expressed interest in continuing what we had started, I felt doubtful of my own ability to keep him interested. That was no fault of my own, just my mind playing tricks on me. I clenched my jaw and told myself to stay strong.
The bell rang, and students began to pour out of the classrooms like ants escaping a downpour. My heart jumped to my throat when I saw Trent, swagger magnificent as he left the classroom. I called out his name, waving a hand. Many people turned their heads toward me with varying looks of distaste, but I didn’t care. I wanted Trent’s attention more than anything.
When he saw me, his eyes lit up, and his face broke out in a look of surprise and happiness. His smile shone through the serious faces of the crowd, and he quickly made his way toward me. I couldn’t help but match his pearly smile as he came upon me in the hallway.
“Where have you been?” he asked, grabbing my shoulders as though he were going to shake them. He looked into my eyes, a hint of worry in his own.
“I got caught in the hall after school, and they sent me to solitary,” I said.
“Thank god,” he said, suddenly jerking me in a tight embrace.
My head met with his broad chest, squished against his firm muscles as he hugged me tightly. The delicious scent of his cologne infiltrated my lungs and made me feel at home for the first time since I had been sent to Bayside Academy.
At that moment, I knew that I didn’t want anyone but Trent. The way he reacted to me going missing was pure and couldn’t be faked. He really did care for me. His tough exterior had finally given way to the true man inside. I buried my head into his chest and stayed that way for as long as he would let me.
Finally, Trent pulled away, staring into my eyes like he was about to kiss me. Instead, he spoke. “Angela is gone.”
“Good,” I replied, happy that my plan had worked.
“I suppose you’re the one who planted all that stuff on her. It was quite the talking point here for a few days before people got bored of it and moved on,” Trent explained.
I laughed, but he had a look of guilt painted on his handsome face.
“Samantha, I need to tell you the truth. There’s no point in continuing a lie that I don’t feel good about,” he began.
My stomach began to squirm. What was he talking about?
“Angela didn’t kill Emily. I only said that because Angela is my ex-girlfriend, and I wanted someone else to get revenge on her for breaking my heart. It’s not fair to you what I did, but I never thought you and I would be like this now. I’m sorry,” he said, genuine sadness creeping into his expression.
This was the first time I had ever seen him look so sorry about something. I took a deep breath, but it felt like my lungs had collapsed and would no longer accept air. He had used me, and he was only telling me now after the deed had been done. He used Emily’s death to get me to do his dirty work.
“How dare you,” I said, feeling more angry than sad.
“I know,” he said, looking at his feet. “I’m the bad guy, once again.”
“You are,” I said, raising my voice. I felt blood rushing to my cheeks as anger overtook me. “You fucking tricked me, Trent. How could you do something like that?”
I was desperate to hear that this was a sick joke. I was desperate to know that Emily hadn’t killed herself and that what I had done to Angela had been justified, but Trent stayed silent.
“You’re telling me that I had an innocent woman sent to jail just because she broke up with you? Is that what you’re going to do to me if things don’t work out between us?” I demanded to know.
Trent shook his head. “It’s not like that. She really fucked me over.”
I laughed bitterly. “Oh no, Trent. You’re the one fucking people over here.”
His face turned from guilty to defensive. The switch was quick, and I knew it was going to come with some aggression, which I brace myself for. I wasn’t going to back down now. I wasn’t the weak girl that I had been when I first came to Bayside. I was better than that.
“Angela is a bitch, Samantha. You don’t understand. She really fucked me over, and she got everything she deserved when you had her kicked out. I don’t regret it, but I’m sorry that it had to be you.”
“You’re not telling me why, Trent. You haven’t told me anything about her. You lied to me, and that’s not forgivable,” I argued, crossing my arms tightly over my chest.
He stepped back. “There’s a lot more to it, but I can’t explain. It’s complicated.”
“You sure as hell better explain, or you’re not going to see much more of me again,” I said, challenging him. In reality, I would be the one who missed out if we stopped seeing each other now. I was already head over heels for him, but I didn’t want to reveal that yet.
Trent sighed, leaning his broad shoulder against the white wall beside him in an iconic stance. “I’m kind of doing something tonight, so I can’t talk about it now. How about tomorrow?”
“You’re busy?” I asked, holding up my hands. “Are you serious? You have something more important than me?”
Trent nodded. “Actually, I do. I’m not kidding you right now,” he replied, his voice turning more serious.
I gave him a doubtful look and placed a hand on my hip. “Well, somebody better be dying, because I’m not going to wait for you over some stupid gang shit.”
He bit his lip and let out a nervous chuckle. “Yeah, somebody is.”
Chapter 18
“Gunpowder is the only way to get through this damn concrete,” Trent explained to me, pulling out a package from his jacket pocket.
I finally had my jacket back as well, and I thumbed through the money in my pocket as I watched him open the taped package full of dark gray powder. We had to swing by the Lake cabin anyway to grab Trent’s supplies. Apparently, waiting wasn’t an option today. There was someone who he had to visit on the outside, and that meant tunneling through a layer of concrete to get there in time.
I soon discovered that Trent had his gang tunneling underground below the road so that they could sneak out into the city to gather supplies. He wanted to give off the appearance of living at Bayside while not actually sleeping in the dorms at all. It was clever, but very dangerous. If he was caught, he would be carted off to prison.
The tunnel was nearly finished, but the Killers had come across a concrete barrier near their desired exit, and Trent didn’t have time to maneuver around it. He told me that the only way he was going to get out tonight was to go through the concrete.
At first, I had thought he was joking when he said that he had something better to do after school. I thought he had wanted to avoid me so that I could cool down before we spoke. I would have begrudgingly accepted that excuse, but he had a better one. His brother was in the hospital, and he was on his last leg.
I never knew that Trent had a brother, but then again, there was still so much that remained a mystery about him. I wanted to know all of it, but that wou
ld come with time. I was upset about the lies he told me about Angela and Emily, but that didn’t mean he didn’t deserve a chance. Right now, we didn’t have time to discuss that. I could tell that he was worried sick about his brother.
In my experience, the reaper comes quickly when he decides the time is right. All the mental conditioning in the world won’t prepare you for when it happens to someone you love. Sometimes you even wish it on yourself in hopes that the reaper will change his course. It never does.
My mother, Emily, and now Trent’s brother would be claimed by death. We all must go someday, but it always felt like the good were the first to go. I guess that meant Trent would outlive me.
“Hand me that metal thing,” Trent said, pointing to an object that lay a few feet from the concrete wall on the ground.
I bent over and picked it up, feeling the cool metal in my hand. It was a long dirty tube with black dust covering it. I assumed it had been packed with gunpowder at some point, because of the black grime. The tube was wide enough to hold a projectile the size of a golf ball. It was like a miniature cannon.
“Thanks,” Trent grunted as I handed him the makeshift weapon.
“Are you going to shoot something at the wall?” I asked as Trent poured gunpowder into the end of the tube.
“Damn right. I’m going to blow a hole in this fucking concrete. It will take too long to hammer through manually. We just don’t have the time,” he said, placing the package of gunpowder on the ground beside him and looking around. “Where is that ball bearing?”
I looked around with him and spotted it beside where the cannon had been lying. “Here,” I said, picking up the rough metal ball and holding it out to Trent.
He winked at me as he took it. “You’re going to want to get out of the way. There’s no telling where this ball is going to bounce off too once it hits the concrete.”
“Won’t it go through?” I asked.
“I have no clue. It depends on how thick the wall is,” Trent replied, sliding the steel ball into the pipe with a metal grating sound as the ball settled into the pipe against the gunpowder.
