They led us to another room. The rebel room. Now let me tell you now, no one wants to be in the rebel room. It is a small space. Probably 7 feet by 7 feet. And they make you either watch videos about being an angel or be completely silent. I could handle the quiet part, but not the video part. No way.
I hated the sight of it.
I haven't been in this room yet, but I was expecting something cleaner. Obviously no one came in here. The whole room smelled of mold and looked like food going bad after being in the fridge to long. Fuzz was coming through cracks in the walls and there were brown piles of something on the ground all over.
"Ew," I say.
"This is worse than last time'" says Blake. "There is no way I can do it this time."
"Too late," says out principal and thrusts us in the room.
I hear a key lock turn.
I hear footsteps walk away.
We are in the rebel room.
YOU ARE READING
I Don't Believe In Fairy Tales
Teen FictionA young teenage girl learns the value of life with a young teenage boy at her side.
