The Dark Life of Samantha Roberts

Chapter 8: Fugitives

I woke up and found myself lying on a metal bar in a cell. I could hear people talking in the distance. I had a major headache, and the last thing I remembered was getting electrocuted by my wall.

"Hello?" I called out to the people in the distance.

"Hello Samantha. Welcome to the cell next to mine. Isn't it lovely" I heard Andrew say through the bars. I turned and saw him sitting on his "bed" looking at me. He looked terrible. His hair was too long, his eyes were sunken, his clothes were ripped and bloodstained. Even after everything he had done to me, I wanted to give him a hug because I felt so bad for him.

"Why am I in here?" I asked him.

"You got three strikes. You're out." He told me before laughing like a maniac.

He sounded crazy.

"What do you mean three strikes?"

"You ran away, you tried to kill Troy, and now you've broken curfew. You just can't stay out of trouble can you? Now you're here with no one to keep you company but me." He laughed.

"You've got to be kidding me. I cannot believe this." I complained.

"No, I'm not kidding. They were going to let me out of here too. You just had to complain with your privileged little rich boyfriend and your jerk brother. They're going to keep me in here until I die probably." He told me banging his head on the wall.

Blood was seeping out of his head, and the color stained the wall.

"Stop it Andrew. You're bleeding." I told him worriedly.

"Come here, and I'll heal you." I told him reaching through the bar toward him.

"You can't. Our powers don't work here. They don't work." He told me touching his hand to the blood on his head.

"What do you mean they don't work?" I asked him trying to make fire with my hands.

"You. Can't. Use. Them. Here. They put some kind of technology in here. Do you know what it feels like to hear voices in your head all of your life, and then they go completely silent. I've never focused on my own thoughts before. There's this release of pressure on my brain. I think I'm going mad." He told me looking directly at me through the bars for the first time.

"I'm going to get you out of here." I promised him.

"Why would you do that? I was a jerk to you. You hate me." He asked me.

"Yeah, but I know you were just directing it at Justin and not me. I also know that being in here for as long as you have is not good for you mental or physical state, and I don't wish it upon anyone. I also don't hate you. You were my friend once." I told him honestly.

"I... thank you. I'm sorry for upsetting you the way I did. I needed to make Justin hurt. I had to do it." He explained to me.

"Oh trust me, I think I hurt him enough already." I told him.

"What do you mean?" He asked confused.

"I kissed Peter, and he found out about it. He wasn't very happy about it either." I explained.

"Oh I can imagine. This time it was real pain too. I wish I could have been there to see that." He laughed.

"What did he ever do to you? You guys were friends once." I asked him.

"We were friends until he stopped hanging out with me because he told me I was too poor to be his friend anymore. His dumb father was the problem. He always told him that I was a bad influence because I didn't know how rich people behaved. He thought I was strange. I could read his thoughts.