Earth: Criminal Rehab

Chapter One

Pete

I knew exactly what was going to happen when the guards burst into my cell. I'd been waiting anxiously for this moment for many years.

I hadn't seen a human being in a long time. Small portions of food were sent to us through slots. They wouldn't even let people like me look at any other living being. There weren't any clocks or calendars. I had absolutely no sense of time. It had to have been a few years since I'd been jailed. I forgot how old I was.

Everyone's young and stupid at some point in their lives. It's a part of growing up. Some of us had been more stupid than others. Most people with petty crime charges like theft or violence were locked two to a cell. They had interaction with the people in the cells around them, better food, and much better treatment.

Everyone's young and stupid at some point in their lives, but I haven't met anyone who was as stupid as I was.

There was one thing I was still familiar with, the violence of higher authority. The guards were trained to quickly stereotype us. We were all vicious, heartless beasts in their eyes. It didn't no what crime we committed or how severe it was. We were all incredibly dangerous killers. Clearly they'd never met... no. I couldn't think about him now.

The door slammed against the back wall of my cell. I stood up from my bed too abruptly and dark spots blurred my vision. My heart started beating out of my chest. Anxiety coursed in my veins. It's a pretty natural reaction considering I was going to be brought to my death.

Two guards approached me and grabbed my shoulders. Dark masks covered their faces from my view. I always wondered who was underneath. Before I was confined, I had many friends who were in training to be guardsmen. These could very well be some of them. How sick it must be to be ordered to kill someone who was once your friend. Then again, this is what they were trained to do.

I had never been one to give up and everyone on this ship knew that. I was a fighter at heart. The whole ship knew about my crimes. It seemed natural to defend what I thought was right. This was not right. Something needs to change. Torture and death won't help teach anyone a lesson. I promised myself I would never give in to their torture and I never have.

I struggled against their grip and darted my eyes around the room for an exit. The door was still open, but surely they would see me coming.

Two more guards came in and bound my hands behind my back with handcuffs. Talk about deja vu. It was a feeling I knew all too well. The metal dug deeply into my bony wrists. I winced and tried to wriggle my arms free. It was a sad attempt.

I liked to think I had grown muscular since I was put behind bars. I had nothing else to do. I fashioned a pull-up bar from an old pipe, practiced sit-ups and push-ups on the floor, and I must've spent hours pacing around the room every day. Why I thought I could suddenly break through chains was behind me.

They gave me a shove which took me by surprise. My foot planted in the ground in front of me, barely catching me from falling. I couldn't see the faces behind those masks, but I knew that they weren't sorry for what they were doing. Why should they be? I was going to be dead in a few minutes anyway.

I looked behind me at the cell I'd grown used to. It was the last time I would ever see it again. No more glances outside the bulletproof glass at the planets and moons and the sun, the part I enjoyed the most about my stay. I was actually sad to see it go.