In the Absence of Light

26

Ivy

I shouldn't have come here today. I'm not ready. This is the first time I've left the house since it happened. I've been cooped up for days—the end of last week and the entire weekend. I think I drove my dad crazy. He stayed with me until Erin moved in yesterday. We just spent the days watching Netflix and snacking. I showered for about an hour every day, and I think he took that time to sneak out for a jog.

Mum visited on Saturday. She was more upset than I was at that point. She was determined to get me to come home, even if it meant dropping out of college.

My parents aren't that concerned about my education. They don't have to be. They run so many businesses, there would always be a job for me. I mean, my dad runs the whole conglomerate without a degree, and my uncle did, like a 4-year internship at the company to become second in command. I only have one aunt who graduated from college.

They still encouraged me to go, though, mostly because I need to if I want to pass the New York Bar and become a qualified lawyer. I don't know why I chose this path when I could've just worked for my family straight away. I just wanted to party, I guess. I wanted to have the college experience I always saw in movies. And I did, in my first year. But the movies don't tell you the parties get boring and boys get annoying. They don't even tell you how hard it is to balance your social life with your studies.

I've never been one of those gifted people that can get good grades with minimal study. I spend almost all my free time studying. I'd probably still pass if I studied less, but I want the good grades, too. It's satisfying seeing As on your transcript, especially when you have nothing else going for you. I may be miserable, but at least I'm smart. At least I'll graduate Princeton with a 3.8 GPA. Maybe even 3.9, if I don't slack off.

That definitely wasn't my GPA in high school. I was mostly a B student. I graduated with a 3.5 GPA, and probably never should've gotten into Princeton. I swear the only reason I did is because of my family. I think I've redeemed myself, though. I care more about my grades now than I did back then.

I bet Princeton regrets letting me in. My family caused a lot of shit for them, after what happened. They wouldn't have had to if the board consisted of decent people. But no. They just had to blame me for what happened. Matt would probably still be here if he didn't have those pictures of me on his phone.

Dickhead.

"Alright, everyone," the professor walks into the room, placing his briefcase on his desk. "Today's topic is about the prison system and its role in achieving justice. At this point in your degrees, you must've heard of the term 'prison industrial complex', but can anyone tell me what it means?"

I know what it means, but I'm not going to raise my hand. I'm trying not to draw any attention to myself, and if he picks me to speak, I'll be doing the opposite of that. Thankfully, someone else speaks up before I have to.

"It's about, like, how prisons are privatised and used for financial gain, right?" they say.

"Yes, that's exactly right. It's a term we use to describe how policing and prison sentences are used for the political, social, and economic problems shared by both the government and the industries that own detention centres and correctional facilities," he responds. "So, what could that say about the purpose of prison sentences?"

He scans the room, waiting for someone to respond, but none of us does. He meets my eyes for a brief moment but doesn't say anything. Thank God. He looks down at the clipboard on his desk, scanning the names of students in this class.