This boy next to my room

3

June

"We've arrived, get out." Announces my father, glaring at me from the rearview mirror.

I admit that at first I was pretty calm about the situation but now my heart is drumming like crazy in my rib cage.

Dad parked the car in front of a large residence; the building is old and looks like a prison for dangerous criminals. The walls are made of stone and there is a big gate with a big electric fence going up to about 10 meters, impossible to escape. No sound emanates from this residence, everything is silent.

Honestly it scares me, I take back everything I said about leaving the house. I definitely don't want to stay here.

"June!" Shouts my dad. "Get out of the fucking car and stop daydreaming, this is all on you now you take responsibility."

I flinch in the passenger seat at my sire's deep, firm voice. He's still angry with me.

I open the door and reluctantly step out of the car. The sun makes me squint, and to think that all this started from a simple mistake on my part.

But dad doesn't care about that.

He doesn't care about me.

He also gets out of the car without forgetting to slam the door violently. After that, he walks furiously towards the gate. I do the same behind him.

A small intercom is hung against one of the big brick posts of the gate. It rings and we wait a few moments before a female voice is heard.

"Hello, welcome to the Frank city reformatory. How can I help you?"

My father gave her my first name, my last name and the reason why i'm there. After that, the lady opens the gate for us and asks us to wait in front of the entrance of the residence for a guard to come and get us.

We walk along the big courtyard while the gate closes behind us. There is no turning back possible this time.

Inside my head, I am at the end of the abyss. I want to cry, to shout to my father that I am sorry, to beg him to take me home. But no words come out of my mouth.

As we pass the step of the big front door, there is a strong smell of resealing, ditto the screaming. It revolts me.

We walk until we arrive at the reception but hardly my father has time to press the bell when a man in police uniform appears.

"June Evans?" He asks.

His voice is hard and firm. He sounds like a robot.

"Yes, that's her." Replies my father.

His eyes scan my entire body starting with my legs, I get borderline chills. He nods his head and approaches me. By reflex I move back but my father grabs my wrist to prevent me from moving.

The cop's body is now a few centimeters away from mine. He holds out his big hand to me. I stare at him before putting mine on his. He puts me a kind of necklace where my first name is marked and finally lets me go. 

"Follow me." He says before turning around and starting to walk.

As we begin to walk, several things catch my eye. One of them is the change in decor. Outside, the reformatory looked much older and worn, but inside, it's modern. The walls are bright white and the smell that was repelling me seems to disappear as we move away from the entrance.

There are quite a few guards watching the corridors and the different rooms. For the moment, I did not meet any teenagers, only policemen.

I have the impression that they are not inside but rather outside because I can hear distant voices.

We arrive in front of big and beautiful marble stairs. I'm impressed.

The guard signals us to pass before him, we comply.

Arrived at the second floor the guard takes again his place in front of us and another one arrives. I throw a brief glance at my father. He has a closed face and severe features, I had hoped to see an ounce of sadness but nothing.

"How long am I going to stay here?" I ask to fill the silence.

"I don't know yet." He replies directly.

The policeman in front of us stops. I look up and see that we are in a hallway filled with doors leading surely to the rooms. He signals me to open the one in front of us.

I approach this one and open it with one blow.