I don't like it. I don't do it on purpose. But, my laughter doesn't stop for days. Every time that stupid song wakes me up, my hysterics start. I call it hysterics, because that's how uncontrollable it feels. The rest of June passes with my head locked in some tragic comedy.
The song makes me laugh.
Dr. Maggie makes me laugh.
Mario's Jesus makes me laugh.
And nothing's funnier than today, July 4th. I lock my dorm room, chuckling all the way out of the building while the thought of Independence Day roars through my head. We have the day off. Too funny. We get to go where ever we want. My laughter bounces off a tree as I make my way toward The Bunker. The part that tickles me most is how not free the guards are today. They have to work twice as hard. A free schedule means wandering inmates. I'm one month closer to getting out of this place, they are here for life.
A bulk of inmates are at The Chapel watching a movie. Even that idea makes me laugh since it's not a religious movie. According to the trailer, there's a lot of shooting and maybe even zombies. Hilarious!
At the ridge overlooking The Bunker, my laughter subsides. The wind tosses my half-blonde curls around my face and I'm ready to be alone. The patio below is empty. I climb down and weave in and out of benches until I get to the row in front of The Bunker door.
Fisher's down there. After the guards reviewed the security footage of the attack, he was locked up immediately. It's hard to be grateful. They brought a rapist into the mix, not me. I stretch out on a cement bench and try to figure out what to do about this pregnancy. Only a few more days before option one evaporates.
I lift my head to the sky. With my eyes closed and the warm sun on my face, I pretend for a moment that I'm back in San Diego. Without the smell of salt or crash of waves, I pretend I'm on the cliff over Point Loma. I lay back and imagine I'm living the life I should have lived. Parties. Shoes. Freedom. I wouldn't be pregnant, because I would have stayed on the pill. That would be nice. I smile. I would probably still be dating Stan, the thirty-year-old actor.
Before I escape my fantasy and focus on the idea of being a mom, footsteps interrupt my thoughts. Distant voices come from beyond The Bunker. I sit up. If The Center let in one Fisher, they could have let in ten. I stand and hurry over to hide behind the pyramid. The black metal singes the tips of my fingers.
Stifling a cry, I stay as close to the wall as I can without touching it. I put the tip of each finger against my tongue to cool it off.
"I hope she gets zapped." The voice is female. I relax a little but continue to listen to the hard crunch of boots on earth. The sound comes from my left, so I slowly tip toe to the right edge of the building.
"Don't say that."
"Dee Dee, you should be glad Courtney's properly tagged. She'll finally get what she deserves."
I stop. What? Get what I deserved. These two hags are talking about me. Not only talking. They are hoping that I get stung by this leather beast on my wrist. I sneak to the shady side of the structure where I can lean my body against the metal and peek around at the two of them. The black marble cools my hands as a fire starts in my heart. The girl talking to Dee Dee swears and spits out curses connected to my name. It doesn't hurt as much as infuriates me.
These people don't know me.
I move closer to the other edge and peek around. Dee Dee and the dreadlock girl from Peer to Peer walk over to the carved staircase. The nasty-mouth twit is trying to convince Dee Dee of all the things I discovered about myself in the clinic. But that was different. Those were my thoughts. My feelings. It's one thing to be self-reflective. It's another to be accused.
I dust off my hands and get ready to attack until I hear Dee Dee say, "No one deserves to be electrocuted."
"She does," Dreadlocks declares.
"No."
I slide down the metal wall as Dee Dee goes on. Confusion bounces off the trees with the words I heard Dee Dee say, "We're all guilty."
I freeze. Did she just defend me? Why would she do that? Did she see me? Had to. No other explanation. Yet, there is no slight glance in my direction. No real clue that the young black girl knew I was here.
I put my head in my hands. This place is so messed up. What am I supposed to do now? I shake my head. People don't stand up for me. Especially not girls, let alone ones I've insulted. I don't get it.
"You wouldn't want people to say that about you." Dee Dee's voice grows distance. The conversation climbs out of The Bunker canyon. I can't hear dreadlock girl's response.
In the shade of The Bunker, my laughter has finally been silenced by kindness. For the first time in my life, someone defended me without profit. People fake support when they know you are listening, but Dee Dee didn't know I was here. She has nothing to gain by her comments.
Why would she defend me?
I insulted her.
Considered her lower than me.
Cold mud next to a metal pyramids seeps through fabric to my skin. I stare at the isolated pine trees. Stare but don't see them. The world I knew no longer exists and I have no idea how to live in this one.
YOU ARE READING
The Center
Teen FictionHidden high in the Rocky Mountains, The Center houses inmates ages twelve to twenty-two. The experiment in reform isn’t without controversy. Blogs report students being tasered or tortured in a dungeon. Eighteen-year-old, Courtney Manchester doesn’t...