It's okay to fear

Chapter 1: Roommate Alex

Just about enough.

I've had just about enough of this place and simply cannot take it any longer. I look around me and see gray walls of concrete covering the entire perimeter of the room. An iron-wired bunk bed occupies the far left corner of the room with one white pillow and a white blanket on the top bunk. On the top right of the wall is a window. It's the only light aside from the brightness of the white linens; the only connection to the outside world. I would try to use the window to escape, but they put up bars to prevent that from happening. Again.

Right now, I am sitting at the cemented bench by the wooden door across from the bed, staring at the wall. The room in general is cold, damp, and dark, but it is better than what I use to call home. Aside from that, I just cannot take it any longer, but, honestly, what can I do? I have tried to cut off the bars with my knives, which I snuck out of mess hall, only to have them used against me, and then taken away. Once I even tried dressing up as one of the guards, but I was caught and the result...was not at all a pretty sight.

Thanks to these attempts, I'm known throughout the entire "Containment Center" as one of the toughest-No, The toughest girl in the whole damn Center; feared and loved by the other girls...! What crap.

The "Containment Center," or prison, contains a total of forty kids, twenty-five girls and fifteen guys. They have separate dorms on opposite sides of the center, which means that we have separate bathrooms. Woo...

The girl's bathroom has one entire wall covered in a sheet of mirror; it also has many toilets, but has no stalls. Yep, it's all open, and to top it off its even guarded, inside and out, by some of the Advisers, twenty-four seven. No one has ever wanted privacy more than the Center's girls.

The guards refer to the center as a "Containment Center for Specials" but I'd call it a prison for freaks. Now, I need to set some things straight. The kids here do not have "super powers" or any junk like that, instead we are rouges of the law that steal, torture, and, when in a really bad mood, kill.

No one at this place has actually killed anyone...except for me. I'm not about to go into detail, since I forget exactly which death goes with whom so...yeah.

Today is July 22nd; the day I'm supposed to get a roommate. Yeah, they finally trust me enough to let someone else in, or that's what they claim. In reality, the Advisors are just trying to get me to open up to someone, so they can control me better. I said: "Bring it on! I dare you to find someone to even come so close as getting my name out of me!" That was a great Tuesday for me.

I can hear Advisor Letta at the end of the hall yelling at some poor kid for doing who knows what. Advisor Letta is strict, moody, and so damn annoying; she's in charge of watching me, as well as taking me to the "Detention" chamber.

The center has school classes as well as a nurse's office, and a cafeteria that we get to all eat at. However, the "Detention" chamber most people think of is the one where the students sit in a desk and do nothing but work for half an hour, but that, to us, is luxury. Our "Detention" chamber is where the guards whip, burn, and stab students who disobey orders or try to escape. The term of punishment depends on what the kid did.

All the guards there know my name...I'm a regular there. They make me go every Monday, Wednesday, and Saturday, because I "refuse to cooperate" otherwise known as resistance. The scars left from every session run down my arms, legs, back, and front. They made sure to not touch my hands, feet, or face so the others won't get startled upon seeing them. In my honest opinion, I think the guards are missing most of my weak areas so they don't kill me and have a lawsuit on their hands, but I have no one left to care if I'm dead so it's their loss.