Behind the Lies.

[Please vote the impending implodement was stopped for now but to cease it from coming back you must keep voting, listen to the song because it is beautiful and enjoy.]

       I slowly left the counsellors office walking, for once unescorted, out to the playground through the fire exit, the halls were long but narrow which helped avoid a situation where we might be able to gain some control. The whirring of the cameras turning to follow me as I walked no longer bothered me, it was background noise here.

     I had twenty days before my sentance was renewed by my parents. Even at seventeen they could control how long I stayed here and so far they just kept renewing my stay, sending the money and pretty much pretending I didn't exsist which was easy when they never visited.

     The day had began to drain away rapidly as each day did. I stood on the edge watching one boy. My hand flew of it's own accord to the spot on my face he'd smacked with a lunch tray when I'd first arrived, that was for bumping into him by accident.

     He was called Timothy. Only thirteen and yet I could feel the trouble radiating off of him, the other children avoided him in a way that made it look like coincidence so that they did not anger him with the thought they were avoiding him but they stayed far enough away to not anger him for being to close and attempting to befriend him. Everything was on Timothy's terms in here.

      He had been back from Blue accommodation for two weeks and the anger in his eyes had not diminished. A scar ran from the top of his eyebrow down to his chin, an angry jagged line that did not fade with time. We all knew that his father had done that one. It was the other scars on his body he wouldn't talk about. He said the one on his face was a prize, a trophy for first place,

       because

       he

       was

       strong!

       His hands were deep in his grey bottoms, I wrinkled my nose in disgust - boys with their hands down their trousers had always annoyed me. He was leaning against the basketball post, watching. I lent against the post opposite watching him stare coldly at Brendan, a fellow seventeen year old who was harmless to everyone except himself, who Timothy had been waiting to teach a lesson since he'd got back.

       Brendan, like me, was going to be another example to the new and unwise.

       He was a boomerang, Brendan that is, he'd get let out only to be thrown back in a little while later. The longest that Brendan had ever managed at home was twenty-eight days, the shortest five hours.

        I inched closer to Brendan not wanting to watch him get hurt, again. The scratches on his face and arms had not yet faded from the last run in he'd had with Timothy, but it was only when I saw a flash of silver from Timothy's trousers that I sprung into action with any real meaning.

       I glided calmly over to where Brendan was sitting grabbing his arm in a vice like grip and leaning close, I began dragging him toward the rec hall. I never spoke with anyone here unless I was forced to, so Brendan was easily dragged along in surprise. The plain white door was only a metre in front of us and I'd recklessly assumed he was now safe deciding to loosen my grip on his arm and slow walk.

       Timothy changed his plans. He slipped in front of us as quiet as a whisper and stood still causing me to drag Brendan to a halt. The other children on the court around us carried on with their games, smart kids. Timothy wandered closer until he stood inches away from me with the small silver blade pressed close to my stomach he raised his other hand to Brendan's arm and waited for him to step away from me which he did with a look of absolute terror in his eyes.

       The only thing that would save Brendan would be blood. Because the lazy idiots in their staff rooms and those behind the monitors wouldn't be watching for grey patients attacking one another or small flashes of silver that could threaten the weaker of us.