Clear Lake Academy holds the worst of the worst delinquents from around the country. Each and every student there holds a notorious background that led them there and almost everyone avoids them.
After setting the tenth building on fire, which just...
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L A K E N P O V
I walked through the hallway of the accommodation building, heading for Pandora's room which had the door slightly open.
I narrowed my eyes at the invaded room and stepped inside, coming face to face with Sophianna. I let out a deep breath; glad it was not anyone else.
"Oh, hey Laken." She greeted, startled.
"Hey, soph." I greeted, closing the door behind me, smiling at her. "What are you doing?" I casually asked as I walked towards Pandora's desk and grabbed her black backpack.
"Nothing, I was just searching for some of this pink glitter Pandora told me about. She said she kept some in her room. Me and Liliane want to make her a banner." She sighed.
"Oh, did you find it?" I turned to glance at the petite girl over my shoulder. A laugh escaped my mouth at the memory of the prank we had played on Hendrix in Pandora's first week.
"No, I'll just try the janitor's cupboard." She smiled sadly, crossing her arms over her chest.
She was about to continue when her phone rang and she pulled it out of her pocket. She glanced down at it and looked back at me with a neutral expression. "I'll be back, I just have to take this." I nodded. "Let me know if you need help!" She offered before she was gone.
I grabbed some spare clothes from Pandora's wardrobe and stuffed them into the backpack along with any other items she might need during her stay at the hospital. There was no doubt that she would be feeling horrible once she woke up.
Bentley and Hendrix were currently with her at the hospital - Bentley wouldn't leave her side and was practically glued to the chair whilst Hendrix was there as emotional support, as he called it, for the both of them.
It was only possible since Will had immaculate negotiation skills. Not to mention he was the head of police.
I grabbed the bag, swinging it onto my spare shoulder as I headed out of the door. A different backpack for Bentley sat on my other. I locked up her room with the key I had and headed for the staircase as the elevator was out of use.
As I walked, I couldn't help but delve back into my incessant thoughts. They was spinning nonstop. The guilt was eating at me; the guilt of snapping at Bentley and pointing the finger at him when it wasn't even his fault. He said that we were alright but that didn't change the thought in my mind, the realisation that I was becoming just like my stepfather.
I didn't want to be like him. I never want to be like him. That was my worst fear.
He was a horrible man that wanted nothing but control and I could still remember all the times he pointed the finger at my mother whenever something went wrong. We lived with him for years - the majority of my childhood - so it was no wonder I was becoming like him. I just didn't want to become like him.
