Okay, so my big hugs this time go out to BigTimeOzzy, KEALY KAMES, FlowersSetAlight, brittney, krepeh, xxhalestormxx, Cookie Monster Giggles, anon, CUTE CARGAN LOVE and an awesome friend of mine, Aeroja.
Loads of alerts and favourites! Blown away, think that was my biggest yet! Okay, so, this chapter is dedicated to xxhalestormxx, just because I'm sure she's living inside my brain and knows everything I'm gonna do. That and she's awesome and deserves this. :)
Imprisoned
Chapter Two; First Impressions Matter.
I leave my room, the suitcase still just on the floor. I could go back and pick it up, but then again, I still don't know whether this James kid is a murderer or not, so, maybe pissing him off is not the best idea. The hallway is white, just like the others. I don't know where James ran off to, but his calls is a good start.
"Carlos, come on, you're missing the fun!"
I turn down the next hallway, noticing the brunette standing at the end, bouncing up and day like a toddler when they get candy. Another trait to remind me of Rico. He always used to beg for sweets, cried when he didn't get them and then, bounce on the spot when he finally got what he wanted. That's something I've always tried to do. To never say no to Rico. That way, I can still protect the little bubble that he lives in, ensuring that no-one ever breaks it. Gets to him and then corrupts him.
As I walk down the hallway, I can hear the faint screams increasing, becoming more louder and clearer. My heart skips a beat, but I try to keep my composure. But every step brings me closer to the blood curdling screams and more importantly, the cause of it. Then, it catches my eye. It doesn't straightaway, but for some reason, the screams begin to bounce off the door and around the hallway, magnifying.
I stop, frozen, staring at the one thing that separates me and the person, girl I presume, screaming. A door. A solid, black, metal door with no window or anything. It looks more like a wall, except the brass handle. A small flap at the bottom makes me think of a jail, food being slid underneath. Something tells me that that person won't be leaving anytime soon.
Bang. Bang. Bang.
I fly back, like I've just been burned, landing against the wall. My heart hammers against my chest, so much so, I need my hand to clutch against it, praying it slows down. The screams soon become less painful and more angry. Hot white fury is no doubt flashing across that crazy's face. That is someone I don't want to meet. I almost laugh out loud when I realise that they are technically my new family, and with that, it follows the tradition of not being able to choose your family and assuming that yours is the most messed up in the world.
No-one knows what they're talking about when your newest family are also psychotic at the very least.
"Excuse me, but can you please leave the hallway?"
I turn to the voice. Some large man, with a horrible beard and even worse glasses looks down at me like I'm nothing more than scum. His white clothes make him look like a nurse. And he looks at me like scum? I'm not the one that looks like they change bed pans. His glares grows, and suddenly, I feel sickness rising in my stomach. His large hand dips into his pocket, pulling forth a rather large looking needle. He presses down the end, causing bluish liquid to squirt out.
"Now, unless you want to see what happens when you break the rules, I suggest you leave, sir," he smirks sadistically. "Unless you have plans on breaking the rules?"
"Depends. Is that a painful or relaxing drug?" I retort sarcastically.
Might as well make the most of my stay. Torment the workers and all that jazz.
His smile increases, darkening. "Leave before you find out."
With that last word, he opens and closes the door and for a brief second, I can see the wild curls on a brunette, thrashing about inside. Yeah, maybe I won't break the rules..
I turn the final corner, still following James' voice. Everytime I feel like I'm lost, I can hear his almost childish squeal calling for me, pleading with me to come and see the oh so magnificence recreation room. When I enter, I'm not surprised to find more white, only surprisingly, it's a lot larger and more spacious. The windows are still locked and barred up, but, I don't feel so claustrophobic. Inside, the wooden floor is still bleached, only decorated with a few rugs. Surprise surprise, grey.
You'd think that if there were some mad cases, a dash of colour would be benefiticial in them being a little less crazy perhaps.
I can see a few teenagers, scattered throughout the room. Some read, some just sit and stare at the wall and others, well, are slightly crazy and talking to themselves. Really, the more I explore, the less I see this as a correctional facility and more like a madhouse.
"Carlos! Carlos, hey Carlos, Carlitos!"
James is stood there, by the couch, jumping up and down like a small child. I can't help but grin and walk over. I guess if he acts like a child, you treat him like a child, maybe? I sit down, sinking into the leather.
"It's nice to meet you, Carlos, I'm Camille," the petite brunette next to him extends her hand out. I shake it, praying that maybe she isn't so crazy. "James has spoke a lot about you in such a short time."
"Has he? I guess that's a good thing, right?" I reply with a half-smile. She copies me, looking at James from the corner of her eye.
"Yeah, he has a habit of scoping out the newbies and wanting to smother them. We don't get many new faces around here." Camille chuckles.
I nod, looking around the room. No-one in particular stands out, and then, I find my gaze staring at the brunette, sat at a table. A book is opened up, his fingers running along the paper, lips mumbling the words I guess. Something about him catches my attention and draws me in, yet, I have no idea why. He just seems so mysterious.
"So, Carlos, what do you wanna know?" Camille asks.
I snap out of my daze, confused. What do I wanna know? Well for starters, I'd like to know why everyone seems more crazy than criminal. "Err.. I guess, why are you in here?"
Camille laughs, picking up a magazine from the table. "Fraud. Well, attempted fraud. I never got the chance to actually explore my new identities. Wow, the things I would have done.."
She looks absentmindely at the magazine in her hand, as if the whole committing fraud is not a big deal. I guess it's not, well, it is, but in here it's not. It surprises me, actually, that someone that seems so calm is so daring.
"Fraud? That's pretty hardcore. What happened, why'd you get caught?"
Camille laughs lightly, folding the magazine and placing it down. "Well, you see, I put all my information onto the computer and yeah, apparently, people were watching my recent "suspicious" activities and yeah."
"That sucks."
"It most definitely does," Camille laughs again, only this time, a little bit more louder. "But hey, whatever. They think this place will help, but really, I'm just going to start again and be more clever about it. All paperwork, so there's nothing to trace."
I nod, finding my eyes keep leaning towards the boy at the table, still deathly focused on his book. The whole aura around him is so mysterious, it's hard not to want to know. The thing is, compared to some of the others, he doesn't look like he belongs here. That he's too pure and innocent for it. Sure, Camille looks normal and James acts like a baby most of the time, but really, I can see how they fit in.
With the boy, it doesn't. He stands out so much, you can't help but wonder why the hell he would be here and what he did. Then, as that question clouds my mind, I feel the need to wonder what James even done.
"What about you James, what did you do?" I ask, tilting my head slightly.
The minute the words escape my lips, I can see I've put my foot in my mouth. James goes from silently, bouncing on the seat so happily, to frozen. His whole body stiffens, face pales and just like that, snaps from happy to sad. Camille's eyes widened, her mouth slightly open as she quickly wraps an arm around James' shoulder. But it's too late. My heart lurches as I hear his muffled crying, tears soaking into her clothing. She cooes and soothes him, rubbing his back.
"It's okay James, he didn't mean anything. He was just curious, you know that, now calm down. Everything will be fine." Camille pleads.
The sobbing tones down, becoming less frantic and for a while, the guilt subsides. James pulls out, and once again, in the snap of my fingers, a grin forms on his face, white teeth in contrast to the reddened, glistening cheeks from the crying.
Camille lightly laughs, placing a hand on James' shoulder. "He err.. He gets like this. Don't worry, you just gotta be careful about what you say and how you say it.. James is very, err, childlike."
James nods his head frantically, allowing his brown bangs to fly with the motion. And yet, I don't feel so curious anymore. I'd rather not worry about scaring an emotionally unstable teenger into nothing. Then, out of nowhere, I can hear the faint noise of a buzzing sound, following by a click.
"It's time for lunch, come on Carlos, we'll show you the way to the canteen." Camille smiles, getting up and taking James by the hand, just like a child.
I follow, and once again, my eyes drift towards the table at the back. Only this time, the boy has vanished.
I follow Camille and James down the pristine white walls, thoughts peppering my mind. What's his name? Why's he here? Why's he so damn adorable?
"So Carlos, you never did tell us why you were sent here. Must have been bad, considering the rest of us were also bad." Camille says over her shoulder, in front of me, hand still linked with James'.
"I err, I just attacked someone, that's all."
James stops, turning to face me with a huge grin. "You two? High-five, we have so much in common!"
He sticks out his hand, still grinning and it takes me aback. Clearly, mental stability isn't his thing. Camille looks perplexed, staring at the hand in air, wondering whether I reply. I don't even know if I should. He got excited that we share that in common. That we attacked someone. But still, he could breakdown if I don't respond and seeing the water in his eyes, I oblige.
One minute ago, he got upset that I asked what he did. But the minute I mention mine and it's similar, he gets excited like a kid in a candy shop.
"Don't worry, we won't ask anymore. When you're comfortable, you can tell us. Besides, Dr. Philips usually makes us be open about. Part of the whole healing process, apparently."
The roll of her eyes tell me that she doesn't think it helps or she hates the woman or many more. I can't tell, but for me, talking about it won't help. It'll make me relive it, building the fire within until I'm ready to explode like a firework, showering down my anger on the world.
We keep walking, passing the door that the crazy girl was locked in earlier. I can still hear the muffled moaning and thudding against the door, only this time, it's more sedated and calm. But still, she's a fighter or a complete lunatic. Probably the former, seeing as this place is like that. We take down a flight of steps, noticing the other "family members" doing the same. Only 20 of us, so it's pretty scarse. Maybe the canteen will be huge like they have them in movies.
The smell of tuna catches my nose, and instantly, it turns. Always hated the stuff.
When we step in the room, I'm shocked to see only a few tables. Maybe they should take a note from the movies and make it bigger and better. It looks too much like school. I follow Camille and James over to the woman, grey in appearance and wearing her net, shovelling food onto some random, ginger boy's tray. Lettuce and tuna. Camille slides the tray along, collecting her food. Gone, James turns to me.
"I think Camille is pretty." James smiles.
"Do you now?" I smirk, realising that the boy has a crush on Camille. "Why don't you tell her?"
Then, once again, foot in mouth replays. His smile falters, turning into a tight frown. He dips his head, slides his tray along and emotionlessly asks for the same thing Camille got. My eyes widen, realising it's going to be more difficult than I thought. But then, he catches my eye again. Sat in the far at a table on his own, mindlessly stabbing his lettuce with a plastic fork, eyes still focused in on his book, reading along the lines with the cute way he uses his finger.
"What do you want?"
The woman's voice snaps me back to reality. I look at her, disgusted, noticing the mole on her chin. "Well, what do you recommend?"
"Food." she replies bluntly.
"Are you sure?" I peer over the hot counter, staring at the so-called food. "This stuff doesn't even look edible. Did you create it in a lab and then dish it up to us?"
She clearly doesn't find amusement in my talking, seeing as she just dumps a load of tuna and lettuce onto my plate, and once again, I find my nose turning itself up and my stomach doing flips at the mere smell of it. I look around, noticing that James' transformation has happened again, the brunette stood up, waving me down frantically. Still like Rico.
I walk over, avoiding the smell that seems to hate me. When I cross the room, a few stray eyes of random teenagers staring at me, I sit down, feeling more conscious than before.
"Hey Camille, I have a question," I ask, stabbing a leaf of lettuce with my plastic fork. Plastic, so no-one can try and kill someone. Thoughtful. "See the guy over there? What's his name?"
I use the leaf of lettuce to point at the guy, subtlely. Camille follows my gaze, noticing him before nodding. James, on the other hand, keeps to his food, scoffing it down rapidly like it's going to grow legs and walk away.
"That's Logan. He was here when I got trapped," Camille laughs dryly. "No-one really knows him. I mean, we know his name, but that's through the grapevine. Most people choose to ignore him."
That catches my attention. "Why's that? Surely he's like everyone else?"
I say the words carefully, wondering the limit as to which James could be set off. That and who knows how many others are around, watching me, ready to explode.
Camille shrugs her tiny shoulders, scooping up some tuna and eating it. "As I said, no-one really knows. He prefers to keep to himself. There's only person he'll talk too, really, but no-one would talk to that person either so.."
She trails off, eyes rushing to the door just as a blonde guy walks in. I walk him, noticing how his green eyes sparkle with a tinge of darkness. Something about him tells me he's the local badass. Or better yet, maybe he's the resident psychopath? He crosses the serving area, sliding the tray along. He keeps his eyes to himself, only turning slightly to catch me, staring at him. My heart leaps to my throat, and instantly, he smirks at me. But it's not a friendly or flirtatious smirk. It's a I'm-going-to-kill-you smirk, laced with evil.
He walks across the room, full of swagger, stopping at sitting down next to Logan. The brunette smiles sadly, looking up from his book for a moment before returning it. That's when I notice it. The whole room goes quiet in the boy's presence. Nobody says anything, noises of forks stabbing bowls stops and you can definitely feel the thick tension in the air.
Resident psychopath.
"Yeah, that's the guy.." Camille whispers. "Kendall. Arsonist, repeat offender and more importantly, totally twisted. Well, sort of twisted. Again, nobody talks to them so, it's anyone guess. When he joined, he stayed away from everyone. Then, for some reason, he befriended Logan and their friendship went from there, really."
"Oh right but-"
"And who do we have here?" I look from the tray slammed next to me on the table, to the person holding it. Blonde dude, well-built. He looks at me and smiles wickedly, taking a seat. "Nobody told me that there was a new guy in town. If I knew, I would have busted out the alcohol or something."
"Jett, do you think that's a good idea? You're not supposed to be drinking, remember? Sobriety and all." Camille raises an eyebrow smirks.
The guy, Jett, gasps and raises his fork at Camille, accusingly. "Don't swear, it's bad! Sobriety is a bad word!"
Camille laughs, going back to her salad. I take a glance at James, noticing his bowl is empty but he's looking at it longingly, praying for more to appear. Since I hate tuna, I begin to scrape it into his bowl and instantly, his grin appears and he resumes eating.
"So yeah, as you guess, Jett," Jett puts his hand out, and like Camille, I shake it. "What'd you do? Deal drugs? Take drugs? Or better yet, grow drugs?"
His eyebrow raised and a smirk on his face, I can tell he must be the comic relief. And an alcoholic, so clearly the life of the party then. "Assault."
"Oooooh, that's a tough," Jett decides on, using his fork to play with his food. "Yeah, I have a bunch of DUI's. I'm not even joking, god knows how many times I've been arrested whilst drunk."
"A lot?" I respond, unsure of the answer
"You are correct my friend!" Jett exclaims, which makes me smile. "My rich parents usually pay me out. But now, I'm supposed to treat this place like a rehab and a way to right all my wrongs. Stupid, right?"
"Totally stupid." I nod my head, trying not to laugh at all.
Jett goes to eating his food, James is shovelling his food down his throat and Camille is tentatively playing with hers. I've decided I don't like the food, which sucks and my stomach agrees. It twists and knots itself. My eyes glance over one last time to Logan and Kendall, thoughts dancing on my mind.
"And what did you do.." I mumble to myself, eyes focused on Logan more than anything.
I love writing these personalities! I like writing Jett as a good guy, rather than a bad guy. :) But this makes everything interesting. I promised Kett, and as we know, they clash as it is. This should definitely be entertaining. ;)
So now you've met Camille & Jett and found out their problems. Same with James' problem and only a hint on Carlos'.
Kendall's has been mentioned, but I'll go more into that when I let Carlos meet him. And Carlos' reason will be revealed as the chapters go along.
For now, I think I have this story planned out for 15 chapters in total.
