I’m not a good girl; I steal, I lie, I cheat, I am a county certified “teenage delinquent” complete with criminal record and all. I know I’m not a good child, and that my parents aren’t exactly proud of me, but I never expected to be sent here. This place is my hell. Waking up at the crack of dawn, no cell phone, no internet, and hell there might as well be dress code for the little amount of clothing you can wear here. I can’t wear my skinnies, my boots, my studs, my piercings, my fishnets, or my hair extensions. This place is hell on Earth and I’m stuck here all summer, roughly three months, about fourteen weeks, one hundred days. FML. You’re probably wondering where the hell I am exactly, or rather what I did to end up here, well I’ve got nothing else to do so grab a chair, sit down, and shut up; it’s story time.