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Chapter One: A (Old) Beginning

"Violet!"

My name rang through the halls. Out of the room we were in, down the halls, and far, far away. God knows where.

I watched, helpless as He was dragged away. The look of horror that sat in His brown eyes. He knew what would happen, but at the same time, he didn't. Nobody knows for sure what happens when They take you.

They made me promise not to ever say His name again. I agree, because They will hurt me if I do so. So I promise myself, as well, on behalf of my well being.

***

A guard comes at 6:00 o'clock sharp to take me to the social room. The room where They force us to sit and talk to other kids like yourself. The room is white with 10 chairs. This can and does change.

When you hear screams, a chair is taken away.

***

I sit down and flatten the creases in my dark green dress. You're supposed to look nice when you meet the other kids. 8 other teenagers flood in. One stands out. All of them take their seats. My heart breaks when a guard removes a chair.

His chair.

A boy my age - sixteen - sits down next to me. His hair is raven black and his eyes are misty gray. I advert my eyes to anywhere but his direction.

"So, I've heard we're supposed to talk," The boy announces, turning to look at me out of everyone in the room. "I'm Archer. I enjoy crime cases and history." Archer's lips curl into a smirk. I give him a look that's mixed with disgust and annoyance.

Archer requests my name. "My name is Violet and I enjoy sitting in my room and reading." I reply, trying not to catch the attention of the on-looking guards.

"Oh, c'mon. You don't like anything else? What about skiing? Or, I dunno, jumping out of planes?"

I don't laugh.

"No." I turn to look away from him. 

"Do you like music, Violet?" His words catch me off guard. No one listens to music here, or even talks about it. No one even talks about their life outside of here in general. You don't really have the option to have hobbies when you're locked up.

"Why?"

"It's just a question," Archer throws up his hands defensively, as if I threatened to slap him. I frown.

"You're not supposed to ask questions here, Archer."