Chapter 6

Callen sat on the bed in his cell shivering. He had not been given any clean clothes or a replacement sweat shirt. His knees were pulled in to his chest and he was rocking slightly. Even without official confirmation, he knew that Jake was dead. There was so much blood and everyone knew that slashing your wrists deep enough meant you bled out in minutes. Callen felt responsible. If he hadn't been so mean to Jake then Jessop wouldn't have noticed the tension between the two boys and Jake wouldn't have been humiliated and forced to admit he was gay in front of the class. Jessop was responsible too. Joe had warned him that the guards were vicious and sadistic but Jessop broke them down with words that cut to their very souls and in this case, the words were worse than the violence. Callen also blamed the officers. There should have been a guard at the entrance to the washrooms, mainly to keep the boys safe from physical and sexual attacks. The only guard on duty inside was Brown. Callen was pretty sure that Pollack had been sunning himself again outside, which meant that Wells and two others had just been hiding an office, shirking their responsibilities.

He wrapped the blanket around his shoulders and waited. There was nothing else to do until the paramedics arrived and took Jake away. He had no idea how the detention centre handled these types of situations and he could only guess that he and all the other youths would remain locked up until morning, when they would continue their lives as though nothing had happened. Dinner had long since been forgotten and Callen had no appetite anyway. He eventually fell asleep for several hours, curled up in the corner of his bed until he awoke to the noise of his cell door unlocking.

"Callen, come with me." It was Brown and he appeared exhausted and almost human.

Callen looked at him suspiciously, wondering why he had to go with the officer in the middle of the night.

"Why?"

"Don't give me your bullshit, just do as you're told for once. The boss wants to see you, OK?" Brown ran his hands over his face, closing his eyes momentarily. "So just get your ass in gear."

Callen reluctantly unravelled himself from his blanket and sat on the edge of his bed, slipping his feet in to his blood stained plimsolls.

"Now Callen," Brown raised his voice impatiently.

Callen took a deep breath and stood up. Brown nodded and exited the cell, and Callen followed him through the corridors to a previously unseen office. The door was marked as belonging to 'Director McKenzie', the man who ran the detention centre. The director was sitting behind a grand oak desk positioned at the rear of the large room. On the large double sofa that was positioned along the side wall sat his social worker, Lorna Williams. The clock on the wall above her read a quarter past one and Callen wondered why she was here so late. Opposite the sofa was a single arm chair, and Brown laid claim to this, leaving Callen standing and confused.

"G. Callen, I am Director McKenzie and we want to talk to you about the events of yesterday afternoon. Sit."

Callen looked about him. The only free seats were the chair immediately in front of McKenzie's desk, and the sofa. Callen took the sensible option and tentatively sat on the sofa with his social worker, shuffling himself to the far left - as far away from Lorna Williams and the others as possible. He was also close to the door in case he had to bolt. Callen felt extremely edgy in the presence of the Director and Brown. At least his social worker was there, he thought, there was no way they could beat him with her present.

"Callen you're shivering," Miss Williams noticed. "Where's your sweater?"

"Gave it to Brown for Jake's wrist," Callen answered.

"Callen you will address Officer Brown with the respect he deserves, understood?" Director McKenzie interrupted.

"Sorry…sorry sir. Officer Brown used my jumper to try and save Jake." He may have addressed Brown correctly but there was little respect in his voice.

"Can we get Callen another set of clothes. He's clearly cold and probably in shock. Look, even his trousers are covered in blood." Miss Williams admonished the men in front of Callen, a move that did not go unnoticed by any of the males.

"Yes, Miss Williams, take Callen with you and get him another set of clothes. We'll reconvene again in ten minutes." McKenzie dismissed the room.

Callen followed Miss Willams out of the door and the two walked slowly along the corridor, Callen with his hands in his pockets and head towards the floor.

"Callen," Miss Williams slowed to a halt and placed her hand gently on his shoulder.

Callen jumped slightly and instinctively moved away from her touch.

"Callen," she repeated softly. "I'm worried about you. How are you?"

"OK," Callen lifted his head and shrugged his response.

"Really?"

"Yeah"

"Callen, I've known you for a number of months now and you've never flinched before. What else has happened to you in here?"

Lorna Williams' eyes were full of concern for the fifteen year old. She knew exactly what was in his files, both from a welfare and foster care point of view, as well as his burgeoning criminal record. She was always surprised he wasn't more messed up. She had seen kids who had experienced a lot less, behave a lot worse on all fronts. Callen may have had a tendency to not talk much to therapists and social workers generally, but when required, he was never afraid to speak his mind. However his physical reaction towards her, made her extremely worried.

"Jake happened," Callen lied. Sure finding Jake dying in a pool of blood was pretty bad, but his whole experience of Southgate was like a microcosm of the worst aspects of his life. He wasn't about to add that Jake was the icing on the cake that consisted of verbal bullying in class, the physical abuse from the Correction Officers, and the psychological torture of his six days in isolation.

Miss Williams shook her head. "No, there's more. You can talk to me, Callen. Like I said on your first day here, it's my job to help you, but you have to help yourself. If anyone here is abusing their position, their authority with vulnerable young adults, then you can help me to stop this."

The two stopped by a nondescript white door labelled "Laundry". Callen focused on the door handle, willing it to open without having to hold a conversation with his social worker.

"Can I get some clean clothes please?" Callen turned to Miss Williams and spoke softly, his clear blue eyes silently appealing to her to not probe any further.

The simplicity of the sentence, with the please tagged naturally at the end, tugged on Lorna's heartstrings. Something had happened to Callen, something outside of his finding Jake in the showers, and she feared it had started when Callen had initially been arrested for breaking and entering. She smiled gently and placed her hand on the door handle, pulling open the laundry room door. Callen hovered around the entrance, and a minute later Lorna appeared with clean clothes and plimsolls in his size. Callen accepted the clothes and moved past her, pulling the door closed so he could change in private. Five minutes later, after knocking on the door to make sure he was Ok, Callen emerged in clean, warm clothes. They walked back to the director's office without speaking.

Once the small group had settled again, McKenzie took control.

"Callen, I'm sorry to have to tell you but Jake Southerby died of his injuries today. I know you two were friends…"

Callen nearly laughed aloud. He didn't know what was more ridiculous; that he had been woken up to be told what he already knew or that the Director of the detention centre presumed to know him. "We weren't friends," Callen corrected him. "Jessop busted us in class a few times." Catching a glimpse of McKenzie's face, Callen added. "Mr Jessop…"

"Yes, well," McKenzie glossed over the corrections. "I also want you to know that you are no longer under any suspicion of assaulting Southerby…he unfortunately took his own life."

Callen stared coldly at the institute's director. How the hell could anyone think that Jake had done anything other than commit suicide? And why would they even consider the possibility that he had killed Jake?

"Miss Williams will be in close contact with the counsellor and we'll squeeze you in a special therapy session tomorrow,"

"I don't need therapy, I'll be fine," Callen raised his head as he addressed McKenzie, hoping he sounded mature and respectful. He really had no desire to talk about how he felt regarding this whole experience with Jake, however, he thought, there was something that would help ease his conscious for how he treated Jake, and maybe help others too. "But I want to make a complaint about the abuse at Southgate," he added.

The temperature in the room suddenly dropped as Callen's words were registered by all parties. Brown glanced quickly at McKenzie, who acknowledged him with a slight widening of his eyes. He then looked at Miss Williams' before turning his attention to the scruffy and insolent fifteen year old who sat next to her.

"This is an upstanding institution that operates in extremely difficult circumstances, with teenagers who are very troubled, and I will not have you slandering us as you feel aggrieved by your friend's death." McKenzie had slapped his palms on his desk and he leaned forward, glaring at the youth who dared to rock the boat. "You, Callen, have already proved that you're one of the more troubled youths here, so don't you dare to make unsubstantiated accusations."

Callen's heart sank as McKenzie made his stance clear but instead of retracting his complaint, Callen persisted. The first step was speaking up, that was what Miss Williams had told him on his first day here, what she had repeated to him in the corridor earlier, and that was exactly what he was doing now, in front of her. This way he would have a witness who was on his side. His allegations could not be swept under the carpet.

"Jake was bullied by Jessop all the time. Every lesson he was made to stand in front of the class and told he was stupid," Callen said slowly and concisely. "About an hour before Jake killed himself, Jessop humiliated Jake by asking him if he was gay, if he liked boys and if he liked sucking cock."

"That is enough," roared McKenzie. "If I spoke like that as a child, I would have my mouth washed out with soap. Maybe that's what we should do with you!"

Callen looked at Brown, whose face was turning red with fury. Miss Williams' mouth had dropped open in shock and she had raised her hand to her face in an attempt to cover her reactions. He was on a roll now and if there was ever an opportunity to make a difference, this was it.

"Jessop bullied Jake and then made him a target for everyone else. Jake was fucked up in the head. I think his father touched him and stuff. Jake just couldn't cope anymore and you should have stopped it."

"I'm sure that's not what happened," McKenzie said, now leaning back in his leather chair as he gathered his composure. "And you need to leave your foul mouth at the door and the psychiatric assessments to the professionals."

"I'm not lying, he told me," Callen protested. "And what about the guards? No one was at the entrance to the washrooms. The only CO on duty was Brown and he was by the cells. I told Brown to call 911 and he just tried to attack me. He didn't even call 911 until he chased me to the washrooms and saw Jake lying on the floor, dying. It's all your fault," Callen finished lamely, knowing he was now sounding like a young child. "You could have saved Jake but you just didn't care…no one cares in here.

"Callen," Miss Williams spoke before either of the men could answer Callen's accusations. "Director McKenzie will of course investigate your claims, but listen to yourself. I don't think you're fine. You are clearly upset and you need to speak to your counsellor tomorrow and I will be here to support you if you need me."

"Of course your social worker is correct," McKenzie smiled patronisingly. "You're in shock and I doubt you realise what you're saying. Officer Brown will escort you back to your cell now so you can rest and try to recover from this traumatic experience."

"But I haven't finished!" Callen witnessed another look between Brown and McKenzie and his heart sank as he realised his complaint would go no further, and that he had probably just made his own life at Southgate even more difficult. Hell, he thought, he might as well finish what he'd started. Callen took a deep breath and continued. "I've been bullied too and punched and kicked and threatened..."

"Callen, I promise you that all your allegations will be thoroughly investigated," his social worker said, staring pointedly at McKenzie, who had pursed his lips and was nodding in agreement. "I will make sure of it."

"Of course. Even though you're clearly traumatised, I will look into your complaints." McKenzie half heartedly reassured him. "But the best treatment for you right now is sleep - Brown?"

Callen stood and opened the door, leaving without so much as a glance back. He knew his social worker was trying to support his complaint but he seriously doubted she would have much influence on initiating a formal investigation in to the abuse at Southgate. So much for honesty and trust, Callen thought, yet again realising that he should just have kept his mouth shut. Brown was following behind Callen and the two walked in silence until they were out of earshot and sight of the director's office. Brown grabbed Callen by his shoulder and pushed him up against the wall.

"I did everything I could," Brown hissed. "I did not kill Jake. He killed himself. There was nothing I could do. Nothing…"

"You could have believed me," Callen answered back, unsure whether Brown was genuinely feeling guilty or just trying to cover his own back. "I told you what had happened. I told you to dial 911 but you didn't believe me."

"What do you expect Callen? This place is full of troublemakers, liars and thieves. It was more likely that you stabbed him and was trying to give yourself an alibi." Brown dropped his hand away from Callen's shoulder and took a step back, reverting back to type. "And as for your accusations about how you've been treated here, you have no idea what you've just started. I'd hate to be in your shoes tomorrow. Now stop whining and move."

Callen felt as though Brown had punched him. He felt sick to his stomach as he realised Brown had such a low opinion of him that he thought him capable of murder. He now had confirmation that his complaints had fallen on deaf ears. His life was going to become hell. The lack of food from missing dinner suddenly made him light headed, and he remained standing against the wall for a few seconds until his vision recovered and he believed he could walk without collapsing.

"I said move," Brown pulled Callen away from the wall and pushed him in front, almost causing him to stumble.

Maybe it's shock, Callen thought. He felt nauseous, dizzy, tired and delirious after his emotional outpouring. Talking had not helped, it had just made him feel sick. The walk back to his cell seemed to take forever, and he was now feeling lower than earlier, lower than when he'd been shut in his cell thinking over and over about Jake's death, finding him laying in a pool of his own blood.

- NCISLA-

The next day started with the usual early alarm which woke Callen from a restless sleep, and he reluctantly trundled towards the wash rooms. The daily routine of showering was filled with trepidation, not just from Callen but from all the boys. They were unsure what sights they may encounter and were relieved when there was nothing at all to see. No remnants of the Jake's life remained; the pools of blood had been scrubbed away during the night. Callen thought it must be the cleanest the shower room had been in years, or at least since the last murder or suicide had taken place there. Breakfast in the dining room was also a muted affair. The boys spoke in whispers, with a few sideways glances towards Callen. The rumour mill had worked well and almost everyone knew that he and Jake had been humiliated about liking boys before Jake had killed himself. Callen's only company at breakfast was Joe, who had seen Callen sitting on his own. He figured Callen could use a friend, for which Callen was grateful, and the two sat in a comfortable silence until the end of the meal time.

Mr Jessop was noticeably absent from class that day and his position was filled by a substitute teacher named Mr Smart who literally lived up to his name. Unfortunately the class did not and he lost them intellectually after the first five minutes. He lost control of them behaviourally after six. Chaos ensued with paper being thrown across the room, name calling - mainly towards Mr Smart - feet on chairs, and general unruly behaviour. The increase in noise and movement around the classroom eventually drew the attention of Officer Pollack who threw open the door and silenced the class with a threatening stare. Luckily Callen had already returned to his desk after a heated debate with their resident rich kid, Wil Emmerson. The two had argued about which NFL team was the best, with Callen supporting the New England Patriots and Emmerson, the LA Rams. As they continued, Emmerson gained support from the teens that were local, although a handful were fans of the 49ers. Callen was in the minority but was very vocal in his opinion, drawing in the support of the few other kids that did not originate from California. At one point Callen and Emmerson had stood, facing off against each other, until Joe pulled Callen away, forcing him to sit back at his desk. A quick reminder that he could end up back in solitary, made Callen take stock and to his credit, he remained seated but highly alert as to which way the argument was going.

Wil Emmerson was now arguing with another boy, Rob, who was an obsessive fan of the Dallas Cowboys, and this time a fist did fly from Emmerson, who connected with Rob's jaw just as Pollack had flung the door open. Without uttering a word, Pollack strode up to Emmerson and grabbed the front of his sweatshirt. Muttering angrily to himself, Pollack literally dragged Emmerson through the door, his voice raising as he started to describe in great detail the punishment that Emmerson now faced. Mr Smart closed the door and stared at the boys, who all realised they were on a knife edge with their behaviour in class that day. Seats were re-taken, desks straightened and some even opened their text books in anticipation.

Emmerson was not seen for the rest of the day however Pollack returned and sat on a stall in the corner of the room to keep a close eye on Mr Smart's class. Unsurprisingly, the boys were meticulously behaved until they were released from lessons mid afternoon.

That dinner time, Emmerson walked slowly through the dining area, his left arm tucked protectively around his ribs. Although there was no visible bruising to his face, it was clear that Pollack had instilled his own form of physical punishment and Callen selfishly felt grateful that on this occasion, he was not the victim. He was surprised there had been no repercussions yet from his own accusations of assault made to McKenzie, and Callen wondered if he could risk providing more detail of his physical abuse to Miss Williams and his therapist. Maybe he had to provide them with evidence, and that could mean he would have to take another beating. Someone swore at him to move forward in the queue for dinner, shoving him hard in the back. Callen turned round and pushed the youth back in retaliation. He shuffled forward, wondering if he would ever actually have the therapy sessions he kept being promised. For once, he might actually be truthful about his feelings – well his feelings about Southgate and its abuse – not on his own emotional well-being, that would just be stupid.