Transferring to a new school can be a new experience, especially when you're Vincent Florence. Going from public school to attending the most prestigious academy in the world proves to be a challenge to Vincent as he adjusts to a new environment.
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Vincent Florence
It has been at least 12 hours since I was last taken from the academy. I was placed in a large dark van, my friends nowhere in sight, and driven to what I can assume is the Capitol. All I was told was that my mom would be called. But I've been in this concrete room, sitting on a chair and my hand handcuffed to the table, waiting for someone.
Across from me was a mirror that reflected my disheveled look. My nose hadn't been fixed after Sarah Barrington assaulted me. The dry blood on my face felt strange. If I could just be given a damp rag to wipe it off...
I know that on the other side of that mirror are people monitoring me. They're probably waiting to see if I'll crack and expose myself. But I vow that if anyone is going down, it'll be me. I'll take the blame for this.
"Let me see my damn son!" I heard yelling on the other side of the door.
"Ma'am! Wait!" I heard a guy yelling.
"Open this damn door!" The woman replied. There was silence until the lock unlatched and the door was opened.
Standing on the other side was my mom. Her eyes were puffy and red. She still had on an apron that she uses when she cleans. Her hair was in messy curls. As soon as she saw me, she ran to me and hugged me.
"Oh, my Vinny!" She cried. She pulled away and held my face in her hands. "Did they hurt you?" She asked.
"Mom!" I said, ignoring her question. I just wanted to see a familiar face. And here she is. My own mother. I hugged her tightly and just cried in her arms.
"Don't worry, Vinny. I'm gonna get you out of here!" She said. "Just hang on tight!"
My mom held me for what seemed like an eternity. After a while, she let go and sat right next to me.
"How did you get here?" I asked her.
"I was watching the news when I saw you being escorted out and dropped everything I was doing. I was driving down the highway, on my way here, when I got a phone call from a random number. Your boyfriend, Connor, asked someone to come get me and take me to see you." Mom explained.
"Connor is behind this?" I asked.
"Yes." She nodded. "Have you eaten?" She asked. Her fingers touched my nose and the dried blood.
"No, I haven't." I said.
"I'm calling some people to help for a lawyer." Mom said.
There was a knock on the door. When it opened, a man walked in, wearing a suit and holding a briefcase in his hands. His hair, slicked back, his beard, neatly trimmed. A man who exudes great professionalism.
"You must be Vincent, right?" He asked. I nodded. "Mr. Connor Devonshire sent me to represent you." He said.
"Oh, thank God!" Mom sighed. "Can you get him out of here? He's been here for half a day!"
