Life Points Onwards[Re-Writing]

Special POV: William

I sat in the corner, looking out the small window on the other side of the room. The room was cramped and smelly, and I wished I was back in my own home.

"You're in my spot." A thin guy came up to me. I scoffed at him in disgust.

"Get some muscles before you ask for things, you wimp." I growled, and he stepped back.

"Alright, geez man."

That's how it was. Every. Single. Day. The facility didn't have enough rooms for hundreds of boys, so there were at least ten people in the room. We had showers twice a week, small rations of food, and we had to earn small visits from family members.

The reason I could never earn the visits was because I had to fight for a bed in the barracks. It was either sleep or visit. I could tell I was styaing here for a long time, so I would have to learn to fight my way through.

I missed Megan, Janice, my mom, and my father, who probably doesn't even care I'm here. In that case, he might actually not even know.

Anger and Drug Issues. That wasn't me. I was being framed, I wanted to tell everyone. But would anybody believe me? No. This whole problem was all his fault. He had set everyone up, used them as game pieces, and then let the dominoes fall.

"Everyone up for work!" The burly man came up to our room with a whip in his left hand. I scurried up just like everyone else, so we wouldn't earn the other side of the whip. "Master wants to see you, Number 92."

Of course. The Master always wanted to see me. I was his toy to play with, after all. He would make me clean his room, use me as a footrest, but he would never whip me. So I guess I got the better end of the deal than others.

Everyone looked at me with jealously for the hundreth time. Did they think I was having fun with the Master? Although I never got hit, the Master was intimidating and I felt very self- conscious around him.

"Come with me." The burly man led me to the Master's office after dropping everyone else off. "Go in."

Carefully watching my step, I slowly entered the room. I felt a presence behind me, so I whipped around to see him.

"You're here. You have a lot of work today." He stated and went to his desk to pick up a long scroll of paper. "These are your chores."

The Master was handsome, for a guy in the eighties. He had no style anymore, and he still carried around a telephone. I wanted to tell him that we were living in the twenty first century. One day, I would have enough courage and strength to do so.

But for now, I would just wait as the days slowly passed by.