Three Weeks in Hell

Chapter 6

Callen sat on the bed in his cell shivering. He had not been given any clean clothes or a replacement sweat shirt. His knees were pulled in to his chest and he was rocking slightly. Even without official confirmation, he knew that Jake was dead. There was so much blood and everyone knew that slashing your wrists deep enough meant you bled out in minutes. Callen felt responsible. If he hadn't been so mean to Jake then Jessop wouldn't have noticed the tension between the two boys and Jake wouldn't have been humiliated and forced to admit he was gay in front of the class. Jessop was responsible too. Joe had warned him that the guards were vicious and sadistic but Jessop broke them down with words that cut to their very souls and in this case, the words were worse than the violence. Callen also blamed the officers. There should have been a guard at the entrance to the washrooms, mainly to keep the boys safe from physical and sexual attacks. The only guard on duty inside was Brown. Callen was pretty sure that Pollack had been sunning himself again outside, which meant that Wells and two others had just been hiding an office, shirking their responsibilities.

He wrapped the blanket around his shoulders and waited. There was nothing else to do until the paramedics arrived and took Jake away. He had no idea how the detention centre handled these types of situations and he could only guess that he and all the other youths would remain locked up until morning, when they would continue their lives as though nothing had happened. Dinner had long since been forgotten and Callen had no appetite anyway. He eventually fell asleep for several hours, curled up in the corner of his bed until he awoke to the noise of his cell door unlocking.

"Callen, come with me." It was Brown and he appeared exhausted and almost human.

Callen looked at him suspiciously, wondering why he had to go with the officer in the middle of the night.

"Why?"

"Don't give me your bullshit, just do as you're told for once. The boss wants to see you, OK?" Brown ran his hands over his face, closing his eyes momentarily. "So just get your ass in gear."

Callen reluctantly unravelled himself from his blanket and sat on the edge of his bed, slipping his feet in to his blood stained plimsolls.

"Now Callen," Brown raised his voice impatiently.

Callen took a deep breath and stood up. Brown nodded and exited the cell, and Callen followed him through the corridors to a previously unseen office. The door was marked as belonging to 'Director McKenzie', the man who ran the detention centre. The director was sitting behind a grand oak desk positioned at the rear of the large room. On the large double sofa that was positioned along the side wall sat his social worker, Lorna Williams. The clock on the wall above her read a quarter past one and Callen wondered why she was here so late. Opposite the sofa was a single arm chair, and Brown laid claim to this, leaving Callen standing and confused.

"G. Callen, I am Director McKenzie and we want to talk to you about the events of yesterday afternoon. Sit."

Callen looked about him. The only free seats were the chair immediately in front of McKenzie's desk, and the sofa. Callen took the sensible option and tentatively sat on the sofa with his social worker, shuffling himself to the far left - as far away from Lorna Williams and the others as possible. He was also close to the door in case he had to bolt. Callen felt extremely edgy in the presence of the Director and Brown. At least his social worker was there, he thought, there was no way they could beat him with her present.

"Callen you're shivering," Miss Williams noticed. "Where's your sweater?"

"Gave it to Brown for Jake's wrist," Callen answered.

"Callen you will address Officer Brown with the respect he deserves, understood?" Director McKenzie interrupted.

"Sorry...sorry sir. Officer Brown used my jumper to try and save Jake." He may have addressed Brown correctly but there was little respect in his voice.