The Island

Chapter 1

Chelsae | Day 1

This was fucking ridiculous.

I boarded the plane, carry-on bag in hand, although the only thing it held was a book my mom gave me about the island where the facility was and a bag of Cheetos. Cell phones and other forms of communication weren't allowed. We would have no connection to the outside world for three months.

I was on the first flight of detainees, my group would be landing first, the other three flights would be landing throughout the day.

I can't say I was too thrilled, to be honest. My parents kept telling me to think of it as a "vacation". A time to get away and have fun. They literally thought this was like a summer camp with daily therapy sessions. I rolled my eyes just thinking about it. How stupid can you get? We were prisoners of the United States Government. Somewhere in Washington, DC or where ever the hell the FBI kept civilian files, my picture was stamped with a big red "TERRORIST" sign. I was going to jail.

Sure, it wasn't an actual jail, it had some dumb name like "West Pacific Psychiatric Rehabilitation Center" or something like that, but what did that even mean? Where the hell even is the "west pacific"? I may not have paid too much attention in Geography, but I was almost 100% sure that was totally made up.

In any case, I had no choice. It was either give in and pretend that I understood I was crazy and "needed help", or I was literally thrown in real jail with real psychos that killed people. I'd choose chilling on an island in some dank facility with my friends over jail any day. That's some real OITNB shit that I am not into.

So as I boarded the plane and searched for my seat, I decided then and there that I wasn't going to let this island get to me. Looking around the plane at all the faces I would come to know, an empty feeling engulfed my stomach. We were literally just teenagers. Four hundred teenage girls who sent a couple fake death threats to the President of the United States, who were now being forced to leave their homes for three months. I mean, what was up with that? I thought Obama was cool, but apparently not.

The six hour flight to the facility center was pure Hell. Without our phones to calm our nerves, we were forced to think about our impending doom. No one knew what the facility would be like. No one knew what they might do to us. A lot of the girls cried. A lot of them yelled at the flight attendants who brought us water and crackers, even though they were just doing their jobs. But I understood. They were scared, we were all scared.

Instead of thinking about the negatives though, I thought about my bestfriend, Rina, who was on the third flight. Soon we'd be reunited and we could laugh about how fucking ridiculous this whole thing was.

The empty feeling grew bigger. I knew that wouldn't happen. Rina was taking this a lot more seriously than me. She was basically losing her shit. She was convinced they were sending us away for good.

I didn't let her negativity get to me though; I promised myself no matter what happened, I'd smile through it. Everything is easier if you act like it's no big deal and laugh it off. That's how I'd gotten through three years of highschool, and that's how I'd get through these next three months.

I stared out the window, my mind wondering anywhere but where ever the next three hours would bring me. I felt a tap on my shoulder and turned towards the girl sitting next to me. She was smiling, even though you could tell by her red and puffy eyes she had been recently crying.

"Knock knock." she said, a grin on her face.

Oh jesus. For real? You're on a plane headed to prison and you're saying knock knock jokes? My gaze hardened, but as I looked at her small smile, I couldn't help but feel for her. I knew exactly what she was doing. She was trying to break the tension, trying to make this easier on herself.

"Who's there?" I answered with a sigh.

"A cow goes"

I smirked. I've heard this one before.

"A cow goes who?"

She grinned, "NO! A cow goes MOO!" she laughed and I forced a chuckle.

The last thing I needed was a reminder of why I was on this plane in the first place, but yet there it was, not even a full day into this trip: One fucking Direction.

Those idiots. Why did I form such an obsession with them? My heart ached. My concert was supposed to be in four days. Four days away from seeing them in the flesh and now because of them I'm heading half way around the world for psychiatric help.

I thought of Liam, and his dumb smile and the way his dumb eyes twinkled when he laughed. Suddenly I was angry. Why could boys obsess over sports players and be called perfectly normal, but when a girl obsesses over a boyband member, she's crazy?

I balled my fists, feeling tears well up in my eyes. I forced a smile and looked at the girl, "Ha ha. Nice one, Harry." I said sarcastically.

She grinned, satisfied with the compliment, and turned to another girl across the row, starting a new conversation.

I sighed, turning back towards the window. The only thing in view were clouds and ocean. I closed my eyes and forced back the tears. I was not going to cry. I couldn't cry. I needed to stay strong for my friends, I needed to stay strong for Rina, and I needed to stay strong for the boys. I was going to get back from this island with all my marbles in place.

This was going to be a long three months.