How much do you really know?

twelve- gavin

    I had good grades, excellent grades. I was one of the top students of my class. Why did they take me?
    Well, I guess I know why. I was nothing special. I was taken for one of the most common reasons that kids were taken- frequently crying in the bathroom. Pathetic.
    One would think that bathrooms would be a private place. They're not. GORG is always watching, no matter where you are or how 'private' that place is supposed to be.
    Here's the punchline. I would only cry in the bathroom after being beaten up and I was beaten up because I was too quiet, because I was a 'nerd'.
I guess stuff like that doesn't matter to GORG.
    I didn't talk to people because, why would I? I was perfectly fine by myself. I could focus on my grades and studies without having to worry about anyone else, and what if I talked to someone and they just made fun of me or pretended to be my friend. I couldn't handle that, so I was alone, and I was perfectly fine.
Except for the bullying part.
    Almost every day I would either get punched or teased or whatever other things a bully could think of.
    I never punched or talked back. I just took it. What good would fighting back do? They would never stop. I would be out of school in a couple years anyways.     Then it would be like nothing happened.
    I guess not.
    September 2nd. The day stuck in my head. It was starting to get cold and I was quickly walking to my dorm room, hands tucked into my pockets and head down to avoid eye contact with anyone.
    I felt a hand on my left arm and then a hand on my other arm. Both were yanked behind me. At first, I thought nothing of it. Of course it was just a couple stupid boys who couldn't find anything better to do, but when I felt the handcuffs around my wrists, my head jerked up. Right in front of me was a man with a buzz cut. He was in an army green suit. Right front and center of his shirt was the word GORG. I opened my mouth to scream, but someone held a cloth to my nose and my mind went blank in less than two seconds.

    My eyes were barely open when I was yanked to my feet. That woke me up pretty fast. I was still groggy and dizzy from whatever drug they had given me. I was being dragged along by two guards. We were walking down a long hallway when suddenly a man came out of a connecting corridor. He was older and I recognized him right away, Andrew.
    "Gavin, right? I'm Andrew." He his name it as if I didn't know it, as if everyone in the country didn't know it. "I'm sure you're very confused right now, but there is nothing to be scared or confused about. We had reasonable evidence to categorize you as a potential threat to yourself and/or society, so we have brought you here. It is nothing different than where you used to stay. We are bringing you to your room now and I will explain how life here works." Then he gave me a glance that chilled me to my bones, a kind of scowl. "And we'll discuss why you're here."
    I'm pretty sure I gulped like they do in the cartoons.
    But what else was I supposed to do except follow? I was weak on drugs and had two guards at my flanks. I had no idea where we were. I would have nowhere to run.
    So I followed.
    After a couple minutes of silence, the hallway ended. Andrew pulled a keycard out of his back pocket and swiped it to open the door. He went through first and we followed, the door automatically closing behind us.
    It was like a whole different world in this section of the building. There were teenage boys all around, but barely any of them looked harmful. Did they really have a good reason to take a majority of these teenagers?
    Andrew and the guards pulled me through the halls as if we were the only ones there. Other kids backed up against the walls to let us pass, looking at me quickly and then glancing away. I'm sure this spectacle was not uncommon.
    We continued to walk down the aisle until we came to a door that looked the same as all the hundreds of other doors in the hall. Andrew opened it and motioned us to go in first, holding it open as if pretending to be a gentleman.
    Everyone knew he was not.
    The guards finally released my arms. I just stood.
    "Sit down please," Andrew said while motioning to a chair at a desk.
    "I'd rather stand."
    "Oh, so we have a stubborn one. Oh well, whatever suits you." He sighed and took the chair instead, looking like he was pleased I did not obey him. "You're in the Alaskan base for the reasons listed: being involved in fights, exhibiting emotional outburst whilst in the bathroom, and denying any social interaction with others." This sounded like a rehearsed speech done thousands of times. "You will have school as normal. There are extracurricular activities. There is a library. Bathrooms are at the end of the hall. Your schedule is on your desk." He pointed to a slip of paper resting beside his elbow. "Classes start tomorrow. There is a map of the complex stapled to your schedule." He pulled a key out of his pocket and placed it on the papers. "You're dorm key. That will be all. Good luck." He stood up and left, soldiers following right behind. He never looked back.
    And just like that, I was considered a prisoner.