In Your Dreams

Chapter 2: The Average Night in Hell (Paris's POV)

Paris's POV:

        Dark walls, dark corridors, dark clothes, dark bags under our eyes. It was all dark in Hell. I was 17 when they broke into my families home. Four siblings. They took almost all of them, the youngest was only 6 when she was stolen from my father’s lap and dragged away to St. Lawrence. I was watching from the kitchen. My mother had died the year before and we hadn’t been the same. My father had drank until Charlie, my only brother, had to carry him out of the bar or downstairs while the officers did their routine check ups.

It had been recent that my father sobered up and took care of my two younger siblings.

        My brother Charlie was my age exactly and my sister Lilac was 23 with children of her own. She married someone rich. Carrie and Alice were the youngest. Carrie was 9 and Alice, 6. She was 6. Her and Carrie were both taken to St. Lawrence, Charlie and I were taken to Sister Jude. It was literally Hell. They constantly had the temperature higher than 80 degrees, they made us work all day and all night, and they reused the needles. They don’t separate us by gender or age or ability or test. The push us into rooms with 5 other people and tell us that we aren’t allowed to leave, send letters to our families, or see visitors. My brother sleeps in the corner of the room, I sleep at the other and the other 3 slept cramped together for warmth. They shut off the heat in Hell at night so the temperature was very drastic.

        “P-Paris?" Charlie said. Charlie had always had broad shoulders  and a tall stature, but after a week or so here, that all seemed to change. He sat slumped and felt shorter than he was before we left. The brother that I had grown up with was no longer the same.

        "Yes?" I replied, trying to be quite as it was night.

      "Is Glados still breathing?" He asked from the other side of the small room.

        "I don't know, why?" I whisper-yelled.

"Because I can't hear her." Charlie stated, his face barely illuminated by the light that was outside of our assigned room

        "Glados?" I said, shaking the woman who was clearly over 60-years-old. She opened her eyes then put a finger to her lips. She winked and that was the sign to tell the guards that she could barely breathe.

 

Glados has been trying to escape since she was 12. She's been tested on so much that she's practically famous over here in Sister Jude.

        "Guard! Guard!" Melody, a girl that had to be 11, screamed.

        "What do you need?" He spat at us like we were lesser than him.

     "My grandmother can't breathe and I'm scared." Melody was born in Sister Jude. Gladus was actually her grandmother. We were told the story one of the first days we were her. That was when Charlie and I sat away from everyone else and hoped that no one would  hurt us.

        "I'll see for myself." The guard opened the door and had started to walk in when we all coward to a corner of the room.

        The guards could do anything they wished with us and frequently did. I couldn't tell you the amount of times that Charlie got thrown at a wall for no reason or how many times a girl would get raped. To be honest, the only way we would figure out is when a girl doesn't leave their cell block.

        I've tried to send my best friend Lillian letters, but they've always thrown them away. Last week, they cut off my hair for what was in my letter. The main officer had slapped me and said, "One more time, and you're going into the Quiet Room."

        The Quiet Room, it was known as that name for the only reason that they couldn't hear your screams. If you lived, you were lucky, if you died, you were one of many.

        “Take her to the infirmary. She’s not making it the night.” The guard said walking out of our cell block. “And all of you, stay put. If any of you leave, you go into the Quiet Room.”

        He left, the door was wide open. Glados stood up and looked outside. She looked at me. “Paris, I’m going to walk out there and when I do, make sure you take care of Melody. I’m all she’s got. Well, not for long.”

        “Glados, what do you plan on doing?” she brings her hand to my face.         “I’ve lived here for almost my whole life, I’ve lived enough.” she said with a sweet smile. She walked out the door and the noise of a gunshot was heard throughout  the building.

        This is when the last of out cell mates wakes up. “What’s going on?” he said. His name was Gabriel and he was 18-years-old. “Why’s the door open?”

        “Glados just died. We’re all running for it.” I said picking my bag up and slinging it over my shoulder.

        “Running for it? That doesn’t seem all that smart, Paris…” He said sitting up, “and what do you mean Glados just died?”

        “Look out there.” I said, pointing outside of the door. “Glados died so that we could run away. Now stand up and let’s move.”

“I’m not going anywhere. You’re going to get caught again, Paris.” He stood up. He was only 4 to 5 inches taller than me.

        “No, I’m not.” I argued.

“Yes you are and who’s going to die for you next time? I sure as hell won’t. Melody is 11. Charlie’s going to run away with you because he’s your goddamn brother.” He said waiting for my next statement but I was out.

     “Gabe, calm down. I’m not going to run away with her. It’s stupid.” Charlie said, touching his arm.

        “I’ve been left enough to know that that is not true.” He turned around.

       “I’m leaving.” I said throwing my hands up. Before Gabe could stop me, I ran out of the cell block.

        I didn’t make it 6 cell blocks before someone grabbed my bag and threw me to the ground. A shadow was cast over me.

        “Take her to the Quiet Room. I told her this was her last chance.”