Dangerous

Chapter 2

The room was dark and the air cold. I shivered, wrapping my arms around my body in a vain attempt to bring warmth to my chilled bones. Goosebumps littered my arms. Everything was silent. I bit my lip until I could taste blood. Where was I?

A large overhead light came on suddenly, and I blinked, shielding the light from my eyes. A door opened, the sound echoing in the space around me. In came my beloved guards (sarcasm), and a tall, unfamiliar woman. The click of her heels resonated around the room.

I was sitting in a chair in the center of a large room. I couldn't ignore the fact that my ankles were tied to the legs of the chair, and my hands were held together by uncomfortable chains, the skin around them rubbed raw. I felt like the protagonist in a shitty action movie. What the hell?

The clicking of heels came to a stop in the space in front of me, and the woman cleared her throat. My blood boiling, I glared up at her.

Smiling sweetly, the woman leaned down to my height. She had dark blue eyes that could have been pretty, but instead made me feel uneasy. Shoulder length jet black hair framed her face, and she smelled like she had overdosed on floral perfume. I resisted the urge to gag, and held her gaze.

"Hello Jessalyn," she said in a crystal clear voice, flashing a big, white smile framed by red lipstick. She held her hand out to me as if I could shake it, but then thought better of it, and pulled her hand back with a giggle and a shake of her head. My anger rose.

"My name is Joanna Christianson. I work for MMP, Minors for Military Purposes, a government program. You are at a psychiatric institution. You-"

"I'm not crazy," I spat at her, leaning in close. Her eyes widened slightly, and Rodney and Paul closed in around her protectively.

"No, we know you're not. We use the building to house and train individuals such as yourself, whose thinking processes..." she paused slightly, as if searching for words. "Are a bit different from the average."

"What does that even mean? Why am I in here? Why am I different? Why did you take me away?" I screamed at her, any sense of composure I had left long gone. I thrashed in my chair, the handcuffs biting into my skin. I cried out in pain. Joanna stood in front of me, her blue eyes condescending.

"You're here because you're meant to be. All people your age, they go into some form of the program. This institution, although originally meant for those with a mental disorder, just gives us the proper equipment to be able to monitor you all, as we see fit."

"Monitor?" I whispered, the word barely audible, but Joanna nodded.

"Yes, monitor. It's for your own good, Jessalyn. And the handcuffs and such, those were just a precaution. We weren't sure how you would react." She laughed slightly, as if finding something funny. "I guess it's a good thing we thought to do so."

I huffed angrily, jangling my handcuffs in her face in case she had forgotten to have someone unlock them. Paul came up to me and unlocked the handcuffs around my bleeding wrists and untied the restraints around my ankles. The harsh metal fell away and I sighed in relief, gently rubbing the injured areas. My ankles threatened to give way, but I managed to stand up shakily. I eyed Joanna, her fake smile still plastered onto her face, and crossed my arms stubbornly across my chest. I noticed with a sense of pleasant surprise that even in her heels, she only stood about an inch or two taller than me.

"Is there anything else?" My voice was harsh and cold. Joanna locked eyes with me, her smile fading, pulling her blazer in closer across her body as she crossed her arms. She began a slow pacing circle around me. I felt like she was a lion circling her prey... me.

"The differences in your thinking processes, as we discussed earlier, stem from your emotions. We know the way your emotions affect you, Jessalyn. You don't know when to back down, when to stay silent. The matter at hand, for the time being, is to get your emotions under control. If, and only if, you succeed in doing so, a committee at the institution will decide whether or not to continue the monitoring process or to terminate it. All of this is done for safety measures, I assure you." She stopped her pacing in front of me and peered at me through her knowing blue eyes, gauging my reaction.

They knew already. Despite Dad's efforts to keep me safe... they knew. Tears threatened to form, and Joanna stared at me blankly. She expected this reaction from me, and I wasn't going to allow her to receive satisfaction from it. Clenching my fists, I practiced deep breathing, like Dad had taught me when I was a little girl. Count to ten. In, out. I closed my eyes, hearing his voice faintly in my head.

After reaching ten, I opened my eyes and sighed deeply. Joanna was looking at me curiously, one eyebrow raised.

"Okay." Feeling defeated, I submitted to my fate with one simple word. And because just one time wasn't enough to convince her, I said it again. "Okay."

"Well, I see we're making progress already," Joanna announced, smiling proudly. I willed myself to be silent, biting down hard on my lower lip. The coppery taste of blood reached my tongue.

"Classes start tomorrow. I know most kids from the inner city are home-schooled, so don't worry if you're a little behind. I'm sure you'll catch up," Joanna explained, pacing back and forth slowly in front of me with her hands clasped together. "Be at the central hall by eight o'clock. A guard will direct you to your classes from there. If you don't show up, there will be consequences..." she eyed me with a disapproving look, any change in her mood from the moment before now gone. "But I'm sure we won't have a problem with that, will we?"

"No."

"Good," she said flatly, turning on her heel and walking toward the door. "It was lovely meeting you, Jessalyn. I'm sure I'll be seeing you sometime soon." She flashed a false smile as she paced briskly out of the room, the large door shutting loudly behind her.

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