That's Life for You

Chapter 15

Who's dead?" I ask, staring into Curly's bloodshot eyes, a chill running down my spine.

Typically, boys don't do much crying on this side of town, not unless something really bad happens. I once watched Mr. Shepard backhand Curly so hard, blood sputtered out of his nose, and though he was only twelve he didn't cry. So, seeing him crying now scares me a little bit.

He stands up and begins pacing around the room again, before stopping at the window. "Mind if I smoke?"

I shake my head and he lights up a cigarette, allowing the smoke to drift out the window.

"You ever hear stories about the reformatory?"

I nod.

He takes a couple of long drags of his weed before going on. "I always thought most were made up. Kind of like the boogeyman story when you're a kid, you know?"

Again, I nod.

"I'd never admit this to anyone outside of this room, but I was scared when I was sentenced. I was scared the whole bus ride there. All I had were stories to go on and the stories I heard weren't pleasant.

I get there with a bus full of boys, some younger, but most a lot older. Bigger. Meaner. Stronger. But they'd be the least of my worries. One of the guards says to me, 'I don't care for that defiant look in your eye, boy'. I shrug and say 'Well, there's not a whole lot I care for, being here one of them.'

He just smiles, a sadistic kind of smile and tells me that he's never failed to break the most rebellious boys.

The first few days aren't as bad as I thought they were gonna be. It wasn't until I got into a scuffle with one of the Brumley boys. It wasn't really any big deal, just a lot of pent-up energy spilling out because my gang never really had any beef with them.

But the guards break us apart, we're cussing, trading insults, again no big deal, but it's that same guard from the first day that gives me a little shake.

'I knew you'd be a trouble maker.' He drags me by the shirt down a long hallway, and some stairs to a basement, I struggle against him, but he's strong and before I can even react he brings something hard down on my back, over and over, the material biting through the fabric of my shirt.

I don't let out even a whimper though, I just grit my teeth and take the whipping. It might have hurt like hell, but I wasn't gonna let him know that.

Opening a heavy metal door, he pushed me inside a small cell.

'Maybe sleeping with the rats will do you some good,' he said and slammed the door, locking me in a room, no bigger than a closet. No way to lie down, unless I curled into a ball. No light. No heat. No window. Not even a blanket. I hurled myself at the door. Shouted, cussed, pounded until I was so exhausted, I sunk to the floor.

It felt like time didn't exist in that room. Sometimes I didn't know when I was asleep or awake. I'd drift between consciousness and unconsciousness, praying for someone to come let me out. I was shocked to learn I was only in there for a day. It felt like a week.

After that I walked around like a zombie. I never wanted to go back in that room again. But the beatings didn't stop. Sometimes they'd starve us as punishment. I had two roommates. Daniel and Seth. Seth was younger and really small. Didn't have any family. His vocabulary was even worse than mine, but he was a good kid. Mouthy though. Mouthier than even me.

If one of us did something to piss the guards off, they'd punish all three of us. We didn't get anything to eat for a few days. I managed to steal some bread and cheese and shared it with Daniel and Seth.