This is a one-shot because I mean, taking it any further would just be re-telling the story of the movie. Writing another 'Holes' fic though...
OOOOOOOOOOOOOO
"What's your name son?" The officer asked. I didn't want to speak. I lay on the ground in front of Payless.
"I said, what's your name. Do ya have a hearin' problem boy?" The cop applied more pressure to my cuffed hands.
"Hector. Hector Zeroni." I said
"Do you have a number for yer parents?" He asked me again, and my heart sank.
"I don't have parents." I tried my hardest not to cry. Two cops picked me up off of the ground. A small crowd of people gathered around. They sat me in the back of the cop car and talked by the hood. I couldn't hear them, but they looked at me, and pointed my way several times.
The cop who had asked me all the questions got into the drivers seat, and the cop who helped him get me in the car was in the passenger. I looked out the glass…I saw graffiti, everywhere. Some I recognized as my own pieces. I saw kids walking with their moms. Little boys buying ice cream with quarters their fathers give them. My heart sinks even deeper. At least in jail I wouldn't be the only lonely one.
"What are they going to do with me" I asked out loud, I quickly bit my lip. I didn't want the officers to hear…
"Your goin' to Camp Greenlake boy, since yer a ward of the state and all, we figured we'd give ya one shot. But don't mess up boy." The officer laughed.
Camp? How is camp a punishment? Kids have always come into school bragging about summer camps. So…maybe it wouldn't be so bad after all. Maybe it was a kind of, rehabilitation. Maybe they'd give me a family, or something.
OOOOOO
Boy, if this is the camp those kids come to every summer, they sure do lie…for a place called Camp Greenlake, there is no green, and I haven't seen a lake yet. The people who got me settled in were two grumpy middle aged men, and I'm not sure they are the pleasant, prank-pulling counselors kids talk about all the time. I sat in the tent I was assigned to…D-Tent while the other boys played a round of cards.
"What's your name, kid?" A Hispanic boy, whose name I didn't know asked.
I stayed quiet. I didn't want them to know who I was. What if they've recognized me from somewhere? What if they know I'm here for stealing shoes … they would really laugh at me.
"You don't talk, do ya?" Asked a tall, carrot-top kid.
I shook my head as if to say no. They laughed.
"Well, we were going to give you a nickname, but I guess we'll call you Zero…cause you can't speak, so you're probably stupid." Said a taller black boy with real thick glasses. The joined in laughter but I just stayed quiet. They knew nothing about me. They could laugh and call me whatever they want. I know what I am, and only I know what I am…they never will. I really am a zero…so why fight it anyway?