by Debbie Civil
Chapter 1
It’s dark and the only thing I can hear is heavy breathing. Something sharp is poking into my back. It smells like mildew, mold, and blood. My body shivers from the chill. I open my mouth, as if to say something, then the lights flip on. The room is so bright, I have to close my eyes. When my vision finally adjusts, I see that I’m in a basement. I’m alone except for…
“No!” Peter is lying face down on the concrete floor not two feet away from me. He has a whole the size of a golf ball in the back of his head. “Peter! Peter! Peter!” My cries are unanswered. I attempt to reach for him, but my muscles are locked in place.
“Peter is dead. I killed him,” Uncle Eric brags as he descends the stairs, clutching a gun. Suddenly, I feel rage like I’ve never felt before. My muscles unlock themselves. I stand and a gun appears in my hands. I raise it, shoot Uncle Eric, and then the main alarm sounds.
“Attention all students,” a female voice says over the intercom. “Rise and shine. It’s time to live another wonderful day! I sit up and rub my eyes. It is 6:30 in the morning. Despite the fact that we are expected to wake up this early every day, I’m still tired and cranky. My eyes glare at the white walls of my room, as if it sounded the call. It beats giving Miss Penny a dirty look. She controls the amount of privileges we get. I sigh as I slip out of the fool sized bed and my feet touch the soft plush black carpet. The fluffy carpet is the best part of the room. Sometimes I lie on the floor and read a book. Knowing that I only have fifteen minutes to shower, I sluggishly make my way to the small adjoining bathroom. The room is nothing special. It has a shower, sink, toilet, and towel rack. Like my room, the walls are painted white. The lack of vibrant colors makes me miss the mansion in Gately. How long ago was that? Almost two years. I can’t believe that I’ve been away from that mansion for so long. The thought of this fills me with sadness. Everyone has probably gone on without me. Peter probably has another girlfriend. The letter he sent me seven months ago has been our only communication. I am allowed to talk on the phone once a week for an hour. And Miss Penny made it clear that I was not to communicate on the phone with anyone who isn’t immediate family. So every week, I talk to my mother. She moved in with grandmother because her and my father have called it quits. That makes me sad. In a twisted way, I had hoped that once I left the Gipson Academy for Girls, my life would return back to normal. That’s just one more thing that has changed. I slip out of my sweat pants and t-shirt and toss them on the floor. Today is laundry day for me and those need to go into the hamper. After sliding into the cramped shower, I shiver as the lukewarm water cascades down my body. That’s another thing that I will miss, hot showers. After using my three in one shampoo, body wash and conditioner, I rinse the soap from my hair and body and shut off the spray. Bargain shopping sucks. Grandmother only provides me two hundred a month. “Only?” Before I lived it up in Gately, two hundred bucks a month would have been more than plenty. Doctor Rose tells me that I shouldn’t be angry with myself for becoming use to having money. I should accept my grandma’s help and appreciate the wonderful opportunity I’ve been given. There was nothing wonderful about anything that happened once Grandmother invited me to Gately. I became another target for Uncle Eric to take out. No… Correction… I became another target for Eric to take out. Thinking about that monster makes my head ache. Instead of pleading guilty and telling the DA’s office that he wants to go straight to sentencing, the monster has pleaded his innocence. He’s delusional. So now, the next thing that I need to look forward to after I graduate from this academy is trial prep. Great!
I wrap a towel around me and exit the bathroom and dry off. There is no debate about what I’m supposed to wear. We have a specific uniform, a white tank top, black shorts, and flip-flops. Since some of the girls are cutters, they don’t want to encourage long sleeves. The only time we can wear our normal clothes is to outings. Those only happen once a week. I pull a uniform from the closet and put it on. The only individuality that I even have is in the way my hair is done. Staring at the alarm clock on the nightstand, my heart sinks. I only have five minutes to get to breakfast. I have no time to worry about the scar above my left eye. I have no make-up to conceal it anyways. Not wanting to be late, I rush back into the bathroom and quickly drag a brush through my hair. It will have to air dry. There is no way that Miss Penny won’t give me points. I want to be able to attend the movies this weekend. I’m only ten points away from accomplishing the goal.
The dining room is full when I walk in. Miss Penny, a tall, thin, woman with chocolate brown skin, smiles and marks something on her clipboard. The room has three long tables that seat ten each. I scan around the room and groan. The only empty seat is beside Clair, an extremely hostile sophomore. Up until this point, I have managed to stay under her radar. With stiff legs, I walk over to the serving window and smile at Marco, one of the cooks. The Old Italian man smiles before disappearing. This is the part that I hate most. Some of the girls have disorders that need to be medicated. A nurse is in the kitchen and will physically hand the pills to the students. The only pill that I’m on is Ambien. Ever since I’ve woken up from the coma, I’ve had a difficult time sleeping.
“You’re all set,” Marco says as he places a tray in front of me. The guy has known me for eight months and he still needs to confer with the nurse about my medications. Since I only have to take the sleeping pill before bed, I’m free to grab the tray and walk away.
“Thank you, Marco,” I mutter sarcastically before I'm filled with dread. The one thing that I’m not good at is shutting my mouth. If Clair says something and we get into a yelling match, neither of us can go to the movies. I sit beside the blonde and am going to bite into my breakfast sandwich when she turns her bluish green eyes on me. She is a beautiful girl with a heart shaped face and a button nose. Scars crisscross her bare arms and every time I see them, I want to wince. Those must have been so painful.
“So,” Clair begins. Why can’t she just ignore me? I can’t ignore her, because using that tactic will only annoy her. She is really self-centered.
“Hi Clair,” I say, before biting into the egg and sausage sandwich. Marco is a wonderful cook.
“Is it true?” she asks. We aren’t supposed to ask each other about our progress. Other than that, I can’t figure out what she would ask me. Miss Penny is at the window telling Marco something. The rest of the girls are talking about mundane things. Grace Keller, my only friend, is shooting me a sympathetic look. She couldn’t save me a seat, that’s against the rules. We are all supposed to talk and encourage one another. Forming cliques is out of the question.
“Is what true?” I ask, feeling unease travel through me.
“Did you help Adam Smith plan it?” The room suddenly goes silent. Miss Penny glances over to us and shakes her head at me. The message comes through loud and clear. I’m not supposed to respond. “Because if you helped him murder your family, that’s sick.” Clair is only trying to get to me. That’s the only logical reason. Because no one would ever believe that I would have helped Adam Smith and a group of criminals kill my Uncle Vincent or Grandma’s driver Otis. Besides, the last I checked, I was also kidnapped. Clair is one mean girl. All of the others stare at me, as if waiting for me to explode. When I simply pick up my orange juice and take a sip, the conversations continue. Moments later, Doctor Rose comes in and Clair sighs. “How nice, the doctor is coming for me, yet again.” She stands, knocking over her chair in the process and rushes over to the door. Because I want extra points, I pick up the chair that Clair knocked over. Grace shoots me a thumbs up when Miss Penny makes a notation in her clipboard. My heart swells and I feel like I’m finally doing something right. After breakfast, we have first period. Because there is so few of us, I have algebra two with Grace and Anna. Everything is in one giant four story building. All of the academic classes are on the third floor. Grace and I walk out of the dining hall, go down a narrow carpeted hallway and into the glass elevator. This program
doesn’t take anything to chance. Some of the girls have drug problems and might use the elevator as a good place to shoot up.
“What is Clair’s deal?” Grace asks when the door closes behind us. I stare at my blonde hair blue eyed best friend who, aside from anxiety, doesn’t have any pressing problems. . Grace’s mother died, leaving guardianship to her father and stepmother. They promptly enrolled her in the academy, claiming that she needed a lot more attention than they could give her.
“I’m not sure. She’s always starting something,” I say, feeling annoyed. Now that Claire brought up Adam Smith, he keeps on popping through my head. Great. All I keep on thinking is that if I had given him the money, he wouldn’t have allied himself with Eric. Doctor Rose claims none of this is my fault. But she’s wrong. Grandma told me to stay away from Adam, and I ignored her warnings. Uncle Eric got a hold of Adam and hooked him. Adam’s father died and the guy was desperate for money. He came to me when he needed me most and I refused to help him. Eric bailed Adam out of jail and to pay him back, Adam participated in this crime. So if I had ignored Adam, or given him the money before he got violent, his life would have gone on without a hitch.
“Chelsea,” Grace calls, her hand on my shoulder. I immediately snap out of it, in time to hear the elevator ding. We walk into our math class and like always, there are pencils and papers on our desks. We aren’t allowed to have pencils in our rooms for obvious reasons. The room is small with two tables that seat two people each. Grace and I sit in the front row and smile at Miss Ruby as she bustles in. The woman is short, round, and has tan skin and thick, curly black hair. Like all of the teachers, she wears a white dress shirt with black slacks.
“Good morning class,” she says, her Mexican accent somehow warming my insides. It is charming how she reminds me that kind-hearted people actually exist in this world. We go through an hour of grueling math problems. “The final is in a week." She explains. Grace pales. She isn’t much of a math student. But I nod in acceptance. I’m not the smartest person, but I have an A minus average in the class. After math, we have a ten minute break. I’m feeling thirsty so I decide to get a drink. I always slip a few dollar bills in all of my uniforms. Grace follows me out of the room and she waves at Clair as we walk toward the elevator. The girl was probably enduring a lecture about her behavior. I don’t feel bad for her. Claire stares at me with a probing look that makes my skin crawl. Grace grabs my hand and we rush onto the elevator.
“I need some sugar after that!” Grace declares.
“It was pretty terrible,” I agree. She nods in agreement.
“I’m just glad it’s almost over,” she confesses and I nod. In just a few weeks, we both can go home and… My friend’s eyes gain a faraway look and I know immediately that I said the wrong thing.
“Grace… I…”
“Its okay, Chelsea. I can understand why you would want to get out of here. You have a hot boy waiting for you.” Peter said that he needed me. But a lot can change in seven months. It took less time than that for me to fall in love with Peter Jacobs.
“Things may change,” I tell her as the door opens. Grace chuckles.
“Or maybe not. Chelsea, I read that letter. The guy is in love with you.” I’m about to argue but Grace and I both halt. We are in the part of the building that houses the secretary’s office, the head mistress office, and the drink machine. A guy with short brown hair, pale skin, wearing a black suit is standing over the secretary, as if he’s trying to be intimidating. Grace and I look around.
“Sir, I can’t do that,” Miss Alice snaps.
“I’m sure you can. All I really need is a copy of her records,” the man argues.
“That is against school policy,” the woman rebuts.
“Is it? Well, we are investigating a crime committed by one of your students. I expect you to be cooperative.”
“The only way you can get her records is with a warrant or her consent,” the woman snaps. What has Clair done? We all have theories regarding why she was sent to Gipson Academy. But no one knows for sure. Grace seems to be getting tired of this whole situation and walks toward the drink machine. Since Grace’s parents never give her any money to speak of, I usually pay for our snacks. It took her six months to agree for me to pay for a pop tart. I slip my hand into my pocket and pull out three crisp dollar bills. I walk over to my friend, which effectively turns my back on the secretary and her “friend.” I hand the money to Grace, who doesn’t look pleased that she has to take it. Well, we all have to do what we have to do.
“Just give me her school records,” the man says. “I can work with that.”
“No. You can’t have any information until Chelsea agrees.” The drink that Grace has bought clangs against the bottom of the machine just as the woman says my name. I swallow and panic engulfs me. What crime does this idiot think I committed? I spin around just as the man in the suit does. His eyes fill with contempt.
“Chelsea,” he says with a curse.
“What crime did I commit?” I ask, clenching my hands into fists.
“Chelsea, go to class,” the woman orders. I know that I’m going to lose points for disobeying the secretary, but I can’t help it. When the man shakes his head, I glare at him.
“What crime did I commit?” I snap. The suited man looks at me as if I’m some kind of monster. He grimaces, turns pale, and rushes from the building. I storm back into the elevator without a word. Grace follows and shoves a lemonade in my hand.
“Here. You need the sugar,” she tells me. Grace’s cure for everything is lemonade. I take the bottle, twist off the top, and take a nice long swig.
The rest of the day is filled with torture and doubt. I float through my remaining four classes and am given a wonderful surprise. The secretary hasn’t reported me. I am one of the girls that is listed for an activity. I could either call my family, go to the mall, or go online. Since mom is the only one that talks to me, I usually pick the outing. She doesn’t seem to want to hear from me. Tiller’s too busy with school so we e-mail. Dad, well, that’s laughable. He barely talked to me when I lived under his roof. I can’t remember the words he told me before I jumped. According to Carmen, Dad said something really mean to me. I feel gypped that I remember Eric’s attack on us. Why couldn’t I have forgotten the way Otis crumpled to the ground or Uncle Vincent’s half blown off head? Life isn’t fair. And I just need to except that it never will be.
“What are you going to choose?” Grace asks as we sit in the cafeteria. I want to go to the mall with Grace. Anyone who goes to the mall will have dinner, then see a movie. The best part of this trip is that the school will pay for the movie and dinner. Free food and a free movie sounds like heaven. But that man and the way he badgered the secretary for my school records is making me itchy. What crime have I supposedly committed? I wish I had Carmen’s number. As soon as I stepped foot in the academy, my cell phone was taken from me. I hadn’t memorized anyone’s number. I need to search on the web. Maybe someone wrote a blog about me.
“That’s what we’re going to do,” Grace announces and I frown at her. She smirks and when Miss Penny asks Grace what activity she will participate in, she says “computers.” I say the same and she winks at me.
“Four eyes are better than two.” I immediately feel bad that she’s sacrificing a trip to the mall to help me. She’s sweet. I shoot her a grateful look and she winks.
