Behind Bars

Containment

Day 12: Containment

Olivia's POV

"Welcome to Quinn McRam's Correctional Institution for Troubled Young Women, I think you'll like it here." The counselor, Ms. Stone that was assigned to me told me as she led me on a tour of the facilities where I would spend a year, or six months with good behavior.

"Would it kill the designers to add some color somewhere in this hell hole?" I asked, not really needing an answer.

"Yes, because the point of this institution isn't all fun and games, its making a lifestyle change for yourself, and your family, and dozens of more people in your life." The shorter woman said, her heels barely adding to her small, skinny frame.

We walk further down the corridor we were in and stopped in front of the door as I dropped all of my bags that they allowed me to bring, and also got through the tight security that they got here. 24 hour surveillance seems a little extreme to me.

"This will be your room. You won't have a roommate until the rulers up top decide to change your label from violent and unstable to stable, and non-violent." She told me, looking up at me as I looked everywhere but her and the security dude that was shadowing us the whole time.

I counted, and there's at least ten different cracks in the walls, and one of the nails rusted over where a metal grate was over a clock.

"Here's your schedule, and today your dinner will be brought to your room. Tomorrow is when you're starting. the schedule. You will be taking the same classes that you were already taking at your school so no need to worry about your academics. We also found from your file that you took boxing lessons, and you will be aloud to use the new part of our gym and there's a fitness coach assigned to you."

"Was this all payed for by tax payer's dollars or does this Institute have some sugar parents that are pouring money here?" I asked.

"Now that, Ms. Davidson, is confidential information protected by the government."

"So yeah, tax payer's money." I mumbled to myself.

"Wait- are there uniforms?" I asked, finally looking at Ms. Stone.

"Yes, its a blue collared shirt, and a white skirt. Do you have a problem?" She asked me.

"Can I get shorts instead of a skirt?" I asked, making eye-contact- a rarity for me.

"Of course, Ms. Davidson. I'll have some delivered before lights out. Now go unpack." Ms. Stone said, pushing the door open, which I assumed had an automatic lock somewhere.

I picked my stuff up again, before walking into the room hearing the door click shut behind me. 

I was left in a eerie silence, that somehow was calming. It didn't swallow me whole, like my stay at the police station. But maybe I can start to believe in this change, that I don't see the need for.

I was baited into that fight.

The fight that ruined everything.

I wanted to yell and scream it out, but who would listen to a 17 year old that had several eye witness accounts against them?

No one.

I busied myself in unpacking the few items that made it through the stupid security screening. They tried to take away my anxiety pills but I showed them a doctors note, and that I'd give it to my counselor to give to me daily.

But, they did let the books I wanted to read through, and my sketchbook too.

After I put the little stuff I had into the draws, there was a knock at the door which opened.

I turned around, and put my hands in front of my waist in case the dude felt threatened.

"Here are the shorts that you requested Ms. Davidson. I hope you have a good first night." He said, giving me a smile that I returned before he left again, and the door closed with a small click.

I looked at the standard alarm clock on the side table and saw that it was only 8pm, but strangely, I felt exhausted.

I changed into my pajamas and settle into bed, turning off the light, engulfing me in darkness.

Darkness that a teenager shouldn't fear anymore.

--

I tried to drown out the noise of yelling that I could hear through the walls of my room. But lately music hasn't been as effective as usual. Taking sleep medicine has almost no effect anymore.

If wasn't until I sat up and heard a crash followed by a scream.

My mom's scream.

I jumped out of bed, and headed downstairs.

I knew that my parents fights were bad, but they got worse, and escalated more and more now that Tierna was away.

"Mom! Dad! Are you okay?" I asked as I got to the landing.

I saw a lamp was broken, my mother was on the floor, cradling her arm as my dad stood over her a look in his eyes- none that I'd ever seen from him and it terrified me.

He turned towards me, starting to stalk towards me.

"Look! The mistake decided to grace us with her presence!" He spat out.

I got a closer look at his face and saw the unevenness of his eyes.

Time to use that new take down coach taught me today. I mentally and physically prepared myself as I went into fight or flight mode. fully intending to fight.

I wait for him to lunge, or throw a punch. Luckily he threw a weak left hook towards me that I easily caught.

Using his momentum I grabbed his shirt, moved my hips under his hips and placed one foot in front of his right foot, which he used as his leading foot, and my other foot to balance with. All together, I heaved him over my shoulder, and flipped him over before quickly pinning him onto the floor.

"Mom, do you think that you can call 9-1-1?" I asked.

"Yes Olivia, I can are you sure you can hold him?" she asked, nervous to see if my father would be able to overpower me.

"I'm okay, mom. Can you make the call? They'll get them over fast, I promise."  I told her, trying not to let the fear overtake my voice.

That's when I knew. No one's life is perfect.