why we fall apart

eighth ; why we fall apart

"Crawford has recently changed administration due to recent allegations against the previous dean of students. Along with this change, we will be modifying the way that learning is structured at this prestigious academy." I pulled out my earbuds and sat up straight. Frick. This was serious.

"From now on, we will impose a ten pm curfew for all students, regardless of grade level." Whispers broke out amongst the entire auditorium.

"In addition, we will be hiring psychologists to evaluate each student along with their permanent records." Frick.

"Anyone who concerns our doctors will receive consequent treatment and rehabilitation if necessary." My hands were shaking. I gripped the armrests to keep from snapping my rubber band. Then I gave in. I relished in the pain, the release.

"As of Monday of next week, all students will be required to wear a school uniform," protests exploded from the entire school, mostly the girls. "When attending classes. You may wear street clothes on weekends. Thank you, that is all." I suppose it was lucky that we'd gone this long without being institutionalized by the government. I just hope our uniforms aren't ugly.

But now I have a new problem to worry about. How the hell am I going to get past the psych evaluation if they have my permanent record?

I sighed, deciding to cross that bridge when I get there, and heading back to my dorm.

"You look cheery. Murder someone's hopes and dreams today?" Alex asked as I walked into our room. I scowled and tossed my stuff in a corner.

"They've already sent us the uniforms. Here." He tossed me a package and my scowl deepened. I shoved it under my bed and pulled out some homework to do.

We didn't talk about that night. We'd never end up talking about anything. It's like everyone in the school has this mutual understanding about how messed up we all are. And it's good. They're not deluding themselves, and I'll be left alone.

But the problem with that- we'll all end up like Brittany Costello.