Marks

Bad choice

There was only one way to describe dinner that night. Eventful.

Aislynn and Sam had argued, so she threw a spoonful of mashed potatoes at his face.

Then all hell broke lose. Soon, every person in the gym was involved in a food fight.

Everyone was so into the fight, we didn't notice that Chief was standing at the door, watching.

At least, not until ketchup hit her face. Everyone ran, apparently. I didn't get the memo.

She calmly grabbed a napkin, and whipped the ketchup of her face.

"What is going on here?" Her voice wasn't angry, or threatening, but curious. And that just made it worse.

After what felt like hours of silence, she spoke again. "Well?"

"Uh... We had a food fight." I got off my spot on the table.

Dawson popped in on the other side and gestured for me to come. When I didn't, he ran to me and pulled me out.

"Are you trying to get killed?" He whisper-yelled, walking straight to our room.

I shrugged. "Guess not." He gave me a weird look and shook his head.

Later that night, Dawson put his book on his chest and stared at the ceiling.

"You good man?" I asked, glancing his way.

Without reacting, or answering my question, which is rude by the way, he said, "We are in so much trouble."

"Us in particular, or...?" He shook his head and I sighed. Good, I don't need extra attention. Or any, for that matter.

"I'm sure it wont be that bad. I mean, come on. Do you not remember her from before?" I laughed at my memories from the Abby I know.

"Of course I do, how could I forget?" He sighed again.

"Ew, ok didn't ask for this." The bed shifted under me as I rolled so my back was to him.

The next morning, everyone was nervous to go to morning announcements. And I couldn't blame them.

Skipping a good morning, as always, Cheif started her announcement. "I would like to address the situation from last nights dinner." The room was already silent, but it seemed to get quieter.

"I am very disappointed in all of your acts. The children in the nursery are more behaved." Everyone seemed upset that she was disappointed, which suprised me.

"Now, I am going to move on, and last nights events will never happen again." Eager nods filled the room. "For the next three days, Atta will be accompanying me."

A girl, about 9 years old, walks onto the stage and stands beside Cheif. She has chocolate brown hair pulled into a tight braid, and honey brown eyes. Her uniform, like all the other kids, consists of camo sweat pants and a plain tee shirt. Hers is black.

I placed my hand on my forehead, as a headache rammed it's way into my brain.

"Cheif, Carter is here." I explained.

We walked to the gym, and there waiting was Carter and two children.

"Ava! Abby!" Carter smiled, walking closer to us with the children.

Once he got to close, Cheif held out her hand to stop him. He halted and gave us a questioning look.

Cheif bent down to the little girl, around 8 years old. "You will answer my questions, understood?"

The girl nodded hesitantly. "No, she won't." Carter pulled her behind him, along with the little boy.

Cheif straightened. "And why is that?"

"Because she hasnt seen any new people in a long time! And quite frankly, you aren't acting like yourself."

"Well, unfortunately for you, you hold no authority here. I am in charge, and I do as I please. Now, I will ask this girl some questions, and if she's smart, she'll answer them honestly."

The girl left from behind Carter and walked up to Cheif. "I will answer any questions you have."

Cheif nodded, then turned to me. "Take the other child to the nursery, and show Carter to a one resident dorm.

"Yes Cheif."

My vision came back to me, wavering in and out of focus. "Are you ok?" Dawson whispered, leaning towards me.

"Yes, just another memory." He smiled slightly then sat normaly in his chair.

I remember this girl now. Her name is Atta, and her brothers name is Blake. They were found with Carter on top of the water tower. Carter had seen them one day and decided to take them in.

The children toke a liking to Cheif, and Cheif kind of treated them as her own. They were referred to as "The Cheifs kids". On the playground, per say, they were treated with respect.

The announcements were over quickly, and I spent my time enjoying the rest of my decently ok breakfast.