If I had known it was a set up, I wouldn't have done it.

The cops were right on my tail. I can hear the wailing sirens following me into the darkness. Someone ratted me out, there was no way the cops could know I would be there at the time.

When I find who did it they were dead.

They couldn't get me. I would never be able to live with myself if my parents found out what I did. I still couldn't believe I did it.

Would they disown me. Send me to juvie? Its a federal offense, I could go to jail. I'm going to jail.

How would I help my mother then? She had stage one breast cancer. She needed treatment but we simply didn't have the money. I had to move out to the streets to get money, I would never raise enough on minimum wage.

They're closer now. I'm closer to defeat. They'll catch me, I might as well let them catch me. Accept my fate.

You can't, I remind myself. They'll never look at you the same.

I ran into an old alley way. It was raining, it dropped down the old, rusty pipes. It stuck my hair to my face and my clothes to my body.

The alley way was a dead end. I trapped myself. They got me. I'm going to jail.

Fuck!

My parents wouldn't look me in the eye.

I was still in handcuffs. They didn't trust me. When the cop ran up to me I slapped him. It was instinct, I needed to protect myself. They had tackled me to the ground. I had bumped my head against a rusty pipe. It swelled up and gave me a headache, but I really could care less about that.

My parents wouldn't look me in the eye.

We were in an officers office. He sat at his computer with a blank stare. That walls were a bland white. The lights were too bright and caused me to glint. My parents sat to my left in the pull out metal chairs.

My dad had a cold expression displayed on his face. He refused to believe his daughter ran the streets. My mother had tears in her eyes. She never expected her daughter to be a trouble maker. I wasn't her perfect little girl anymore.

"She has a clean record," the officer said. He had put my name through the computer, he didn't believe I was innocent. Maybe it was my face. I had my hard face on, I looked mad. I needed to, I couldn't crack in front of an officer. "If only she could tell us who she worked for."

"Can't. I can get all of us killed," I said. The officer didn't seem fazed by the truth.

"We're officers. We protect ourselves."

"You say that but when they pass by and send bullets through the window you would believe otherwise," I spat out.

"Clementine, stop giving the officer a hard time," my father scolded me. That faltered my facáde. I never liked it when my father yelled at me.

"Your daughter has many charges against her. She would spend two years in juvie, minimum," the officer informed my parents.

"How much would a bond be?" my father asked. I wanted to believe it was because he cared for me, but they knew the truth now. They'd never care for someone who ruined their reputation.

"Too expensive for a trouble maker. There's an alternative that can serve as the time for juvinile detention," the officer pulled out a brochure. "Erickson's boarding school for troubled youth. A third of the cost for bond for an entire year of enrollment."

My father eyed the brochure, "she won't have to go to juvie if she attends?"

"It's an alternative, yes. Your daughter has to serve time for her crime. This would be the most efficient way. They have certified therapist and well funded education board. You're daughter will still receive credits for high school and won't be held back a year," the officer said. He was too good. My father was actually thinking about it and knowing him, he'll accept the offer.

"Is there a website?"

"You can sign right here," the officer said. Just like that I was a delinquent. A trouble maker. A criminal.

I wasn't their daughter anymore.

I had to stay in the town jail for three days as they registered me for Erickson. My mother had stopped by to inform me about the school. It apperently was located in Maine, but we lived in Georgia. It was summer now. They're summers wasn't as warm as ours, I would need thicker clothes.

My mother paused, "why'd you do it."

"We needed money," I said. I could see the disappointment flash threw her eyes. I felt ashamed, but I didn't show it.

"You could have gotten a government certicfied job. You could have been safe!"

"I am safe. I'm going to this boarding school!" I said. There was so many things I wanted to tell at her. So much I wanted her to know, but my head wouldn't form the words. The left as fast as they came and all I could do was glare at my mother through the bars.

I was angry. No, I was sad. No, that wasn't it either. I was guilty. I was selfish.

I was grieving.

I wasn't the same girl anymore. I was a new person. I can't go back to who I was. It'll be on the news soon. Everyone will know. All my friends would leave. My parents will hide from the public. I caused this distress.

Maybe it was best it was leaving that day.

My mother had packed my bags for me. I didn't know whether to be appreciative of it or angry at it. It felt like she was eager for me to leave, for her life to return to normal. If I was gone that wasn't normal, but it took away the stress of the situation. My mother couldn't stress right now, not in her condition.

"I believe that's everything. I packed all you winter clothes, you might have to get some down there," she put her hands over her face. "My baby girl. Why did you make us have to do this?"

Her words stung. They were so truthful, so raw. She really didn't want me to go. That was more than father gave me.

I hugged her one last time before I left.

I would have to be flown into Maine. The drive was too long of a trip for my father to care.

My final hours in Savannah was lonely. No one was with me. I was alone.

I was alone.

Erickson was a well hidden school in the middle of the Forrest in Maine. A private bus had to transport you to the school. It was located that far into the Forrest.

No one welcomed me at the door. I had no idea where I was supposed to go. All my bags were behind me as I looked at the old colonial building. It was too big, I'd never find the office.

The bell rung. It would only be so long before people would flood outside. I still didn't know where to go.

The first person walked outside. A tidal wave of people didn't follow him out, it was just him. He seemed in a rush, but when he saw me he stopped in his tracks.

He had an interesting look to him. His hair was in dreadlocks, an undercut complimenting the long hair. He wore a plain brown wool shirt. His pants looked worn, like they'd been washed to many times. He completed his look with heavy boots. It was the end of summer and there was still some heat, but the Maine breeze was cool enough to allow the thick boots.

When he got closer I examined his face. He was light skinned with freckles. His eyes were brown and they looked at me kindly as he smiled.

"A new soul. Welcome to hell!" he said. He looked at my bags. "I see the welcome party is being as effective as ever."

His humor was down to earth, but I wasn't there for an discussion. I needed to get to the office.

"Can you take me to the office for registration?" I asked. He looked at my bags again before taking my heaviest bag in his hands.

"Next stop, the front office," He said. "I'm Louis by the way."

"Clementine," I replied. He bowed down.

"You're acquaintance is my honor, your majesty," he said. I smiled nervously, not sure how to react to his sudden greeting.

"The office please," thank god he listened. I was getting nervous we'd be flooded by people and would never make it to the office.

So far, Erickson was going terribly. I had a feeling it would stay that way.