Dystopia

⌘ The one

"Stop sleeping." He nudges me causing me to jolt to the side.

"I'm not."

"Then open your eyes," he says forcefully.

"I'd rather not see you right now," I whisper in the same tone.

I can't face Dean, what I did, what I said. It's all too embarrassing to face up to. Especially in class surrounded by other inmates and cameras.

"You're acting like an idiot, get over yourself," he tuts leaning back into his seat.

"Lena face the front and pay attention!" The teacher, whatever his name is, calls.

I'm not used to this method of learning. I much prefer being home schooled. This man seems to have an un touchable authority over me which I don't like one bit.

Nevertheless I'm forced to attend his classes, for after this I'll probably be taken to solitary confinement. It's been a month since Ms. Harts had me locked up in the green cell. My wounds have healed but that's about all that's changed.

Today is the first time I've been released to attend class.The first time I've seen my fellow inmates. The first time I've seen Dean.

I don't know what I said to him or what possessed me to stab myself in front of him but I don't care right now. I just want to pretend that it didn't happen and be done with my sentence.

I don't know where I'll go afterwards, back to the flat isn't an option, I'll have to get a job and save up so I can leave this dusty town, if they're willing to hire someone with a criminal record.

"What's the answer?" The teacher is pointing at me and I have no idea of what he was talking about in the first place.

"Err..." Is all I muster.

"Pay attention next time," he says crudely as he scribbles the correct answer onto the black board.

"Ha ha, dick head," a boy sitting behind me calls.

"There's no need for that," the teacher addresses him.

I inwardly grown and lay my head in between my arms using my hair to block out any vision of my face.

"Psstt," Dean taps my arm.

"Go away," I hiss.

He doesn't respond, only throwing himself back into his seat. Leaving me feeling bad, but I have no business talking to him anymore, I've shamed myself, probably for life, and he's taken anyway.

After class is over, I'm just about to leave the classroom when a hand grabs me back. Who else but Dean?

"What?" I ask.

His expression is a mix of anger and confusion. "What?! Why aren't you talking to me?" He questions.

"I have nothing to say," I respond trying to get free from his strong grasp but he won't budge.

"Yes you do," he crosses his thick eyebrows.

"Sorry! There you happy?! I'm sorry you had to see me do that," I blurt out angrily. He's delaying me because of a conversation I don't need to be having.

"No you were doped up on meds that doesn't matter, but you can't be mad at me!" He says.

This boy thinks he's so innocent, he's made my emotions feel like they are on a roller coster, only to find out he has a girlfriend a day after he kisses me.

"Really I can't be angry at you? You lead me on, you kissed me remember?" I lower my voice, a wave of sadness rushes over me.

"I know." He let's go of my arm and swiftly walks out of the door. Leaving me confused and late to meet the guard who will escort me back to my prison.