My Summer in Hell

Meeting the Owens

“It hurts,” my voice came out as a raspy moan. My whole body ached and pounded. I felt like I had been rolled over by a steam roller, trampled by elephants, used as a punching bag, and then rolled over by the steam roller again. Everything hurt, even things I didn’t know I could feel hurt. What the hell happened yesterday?

     Slowly my eye lids pried themselves open.  I was lying on a little cot in a strange little room. The walls were painted a bright white color, and the floor was a cold cement filling. There were no windows and a door on the wall across from my cot. The door looked like it was a reinforced steel jail door, it even had a little mail slot in it for food. Speaking of food, my stomach was growling menacingly at me. I guess I should go look for food.

    I sat up very carefully as I still felt like I had been body slammed by a sumo wrestler. The little cot I was on had a thin sheet and small felt blanket on it. Where am I? The last thing I remember was being crushed by household goods and canned items, so how did that lead to being in a little insane asylum room? I slid my feet off of the bed wincing slightly as I did so, my back popped as I stood up and stretched my muscles out. This would be killing me for a while.

    My feet were really cold, glancing down I saw why. Someone had taken my shoes off, and apparently my socks as well. I reached down to the end of the bed and pulled them back on over my numb feet. Shivering I tucked my hands into my arm pits; at least I still had my black sweater on. As fast as I could without whimpering in pain, I trudged across the room to the door. Now how do I get out? My hand was shaking as I reached out and tried the handle, to my surprise it slid open easily. Poking my head out I glanced up and down the hall to see if the coast was clear. It didn’t look like anyone was around so I tip-toed out of the little white room and made my way down the hall. I’m pretty sure that this is a prison or something, there was security cameras all along the walls, and the place was painted a dull beige color, nothing special or significant.  It was really boring here.

    I started humming the Mission Impossible theme song as my walk down the hall turned into more of a ninja sneaking thing. Soon I was ducking behind fake potted plants, walking in a sort of half-crouched ninja walk, and sliding behind corners acting all secret agent. I was starting to enjoy myself and forget the pain when I heard someone laugh.

     “Who goes there?” I asked as I spun around trying to find the person who laughed. Of course when I found who dared to mock my moves I find Pete.

     “Oh enjoying the show? You perv!” I accuse, it was all false anger, but he doesn’t know that.

     “It was a nice view, I’m almost sad to see your performance end. But I’m glad I found you, I was on my way to your cell to get you out. It’s trial time,” he stated with his stupid little smirk.

     “So it was a cell? That means this is a prison, right? What am I doing in a prison? And what do you mean trial time?”

     “Yes it was a cell, yes this is a prison. You are here because you broke several laws and you needed to be somewhere we could keep surveillance on. And I meant it’s time for you to go talk to the judge and have your trial, there really isn’t a point trying to argue your innocence at this point, but we need to grant you a sentencing.”

    “Why do I need to be kept under surveillance?”

    “Well for two reasons. One, you were really hurt by that shelf, I’m surprised you’re on your feet walking round right now. Two, you proved that you were an escapee kind of girl, and you had some serious charges that we couldn’t let you out of. Ohm and there was a bounty on your head.”

      “For what?” A bounty? Wow, never had one of those before.

      “Just some long-standing issue with an unpaid parking ticket.” Well there goes my dream of being a high priced wanted citizen. An unpaid parking ticket? Really? Wow, how lame.