The Taken

11

"No, leave me alone! I don't wanna see your screwy face!" Ramona was yelling, stressed anxious and depressed all at once. She hated it at the library. Nothing happened. They would maybe see an adult once or twice a day or they would just go and garden. Everyone was so hopeless there, her especially. She wanted to have a purpose, not just be another girl for the boys to gawk at.

She was pretty but that came with its cons. Sure the boys loved Ramona, but they didn't think she was smart because of it. She was too beautiful to fight. Too pretty to lead. Too gorgeous for anyone to love. She hated being the popular girl. In school, she would never wear makeup like other girls, she would act like a tomboy and as masculine as possible. She was even a lesbian at one point. She didn't want to be pretty. She wanted to be smart, and she was, they just didn't see that.

"I'm this close to leaving this hell, Rick," Ramona shouted, making her choking and raw voice echo through the building. Her eyes welling with furious amounts of tears.

Some of the younger kids were crouching behind chairs, desks and shelves. This never happened to their group. Rarely did they see someone lash out or even get physically injured. Kids here didn't see the real horrors the world was offering.

Ramona just screamed in frustration, hands covering her strawberry face. She stormed off with a heavy rain cloud over her and all the kids were in shock, amazed and scared at was happening. Janice was there but wasn't sure what to do. Ramona left the room with the harshest of silences.

"Well," Rick said with a heavy lump of nervousness in his throat.

"Good job, Rick," Janice said unforgivingly. "You know what? I think I'm done with your shit too," she said with an epiphany.

"I... I'm sorry," Rick stated, completely confused and gutted that his best commander was probably going to leave him.

"Sorry doesn't cut it, Buck," one boy said, getting up to join Janice. The kid looked to be about thirteen and he cupped a smaller child on the back with his hand, standing him up. "We gotta go, pack your things."

"But," the smaller boy said.

"Mind me," the older boy said reassuringly, smiling kindly at his supposed relative.

Rick watched his now dwindling group slowly start to fall into a small panic. How was he gonna manage this place if it didn't have the fighters.

His thoughts were cut short by his group yelling at him to run before he was hit in the back of the head with a bat.