M. Sanders Confinement School for Girls

— November —

The judge sat staring down at me. He was deciding my future; the future of a 15 year old girl. I looked to my right and saw my mother there looking at me with tears in her eyes. They were cold and full of disappointment. My heart sank to the floor. As much as I tried to defend myself, my lawyer to my left kept insisting I don’t speak. He kept saying “You’re fifteen, and sometimes kids say things in the moment that could jeopardize their lives without even realizing. Let the adults do the talking.” The lawyer looked at his phone and back up to the judge.

My lawyer watched the judge sitting behind his desk looking over our paperwork. The judge seemed annoyed to be dealing with all this. While we sat and waited, I thought about all the things we discussed. This was terrible. Stealing from Wal-Mart was supposed to be easy. Most of the time it WAS easy. You could just slip something under your sleeves or drop it in your purse. They had countless videos of me doing my little slips and tricks to walk out with stolen merchandise.

“Your honor, with all due respect, she’s a child. Usually this is just a slap on the wrist and we move on.” My lawyer raised his eyebrows. “You know, the scare tactic and all that?”

Judge Fairfield looked up from the paperwork. The years of stress and late nights showed under his old eyes. “With all due respect, this child is out of control.” He pulled his glasses from his face and sat them upside-down on the table. “There aren’t enough hours in the day to go over the tapes we have of her stealing. Look here.” The judge pointed to a piece of paper to his left. “Here she allegedly threatened a gas station clerk with a knife.”

“She didn’t actually have a knife, she was just being a teen and trying to scare them.” The lawyer continued to protest.

“The intent was there, and it’s my job to make sure the people out there are safe and free of harm. We can’t just let people, even teens, run around causing terror around town! In my opinion, there’s only one place for a kid like this and that’s juvenile-“

“No!” My Mom piped up. I was surprised she even knew how to defend her child. “I know she’s not like this. Ever since her father left she turned crazy. I know she can be a good kid though.”

The judge looked at my lawyer, “she’s a better lawyer than you are Mr. Conor.” A smirk fell over his wrinkled lips. “Mrs. Park I’m going to make a call to a friend. There’s a special program your daughter qualifies for and I think you’ll be happy with it. Please give me a moment.” He waved us out of his office where we stood and waited outside the door.

My mom sighed and ran her hands over her face. Her eyes were bloodshot around her green orbs. She looked at me with such distain I almost felt bad. Our eyes met for a second and I looked to the floor.
“Whatever sort of DEAL he’s working on in there, you’re going to take it.” She ordered. “You and your brother...” she paused. “You both are disappointments to me.”

I smirked. I didn’t care if I was a disappointment to her or not. All she ever did all my life was lead me from one bad thing to another. She gripped the back of my head firmly.

“Cali I swear to fucking God, all I want is for one of my children to end up normal. Cut the shit.” She was speaking in a harsh whisper.

“Jesus Mom I got it.” I pulled myself away from her grasp.

She had small strands of my blonde hair in her hand. The judge opened the door and beckoned us in. We all sat down as we had been before. My mother crossed her legs and nervously picked at a hole in her jeans.

“l just got off the phone with Mr. Sanders. He’s the principal at the M. Sanders Confinement School for Girls.” He explained.

“That’s a mouthful.” Our lawyer said with a chuckle.

No one else laughed, we just awaited the judges explanation. “It’s simple.” He looked right at my mother. “Cali Park will spend the rest of her high school career at this facility. It’s a secure, and locked down school for troubled teens. It’s a program started by Mr. Sanders himself to help young girls ‘get straight’ and get on the right path.” He signed a paper and turned it over to my mother. “It’s still being tested, but over the last few years has shown promising results.”

Mom read over the paper. What little I read of it seemed ridiculous. There were sections about curfews and good behavior vacations. No way she would send me somewhere so stupid.

“Mom you’re not seriously considering this are you?” There’s no way she’d give up her only daughter to some prison school in Los Angeles. “You wouldn’t really move me to the other side of the country would you?”

She scoffed and looked at me. “Are you fucking kidding me right now? You rob a store at knife point and get caught numerous times stealing, and NOW you’re worried about where you’ll end up?” She grabbed the paper and slammed it down in front of me. Using her index finger she pointed harshly at one of the sections on the page. “Look, Cali, right here it says ‘though the juvenile delinquent will be in a minimum security facility, they will not be hindered in their futures when applying for jobs, housing, or colleges, unlike juvenile hall. We value the young mind and will help your child grow with their strengths, rather than weighed down by weaknesses.’ That means nothing will stay on her permanent record correct?”

The judge closed his eyes and nodded in approval. “As I said before, this is still in the trial phase and has been fairly successful so far.”

“What are my other options?” I asked blatantly. The look on everyone’s face was that of surprise. “What? I’m not going to California and losing my friends and everything I have here.” I protested.

The anger in my mothers face was reaching its boiling point. She put her palm to her forehead and sighed heavily “Cali, if you go to Juvy, you won’t have any friends anyway!”

I groaned and crossed my arms over my chest. I knew she was right, but this wasn’t fair! How could she and two people who don’t even know me make such rash decisions regarding my life! I stood up and walked toward the door. Two security guards blocked my way.

“Keep walking Miss Park and you’ll be forced to Juvy and this option will be revoked.” Judge Fairfield said.

I rolled my eyes and turned back to face the three people deciding my future. “Fucking FINE.” I sat down and watched my mother sign my life away.

— Sophomore Year —
— End of Semester 1 —

When I got off the plane in California I had expected it to be colder than it was. I had never been, and when I left New Hampshire we were facing 10 degree temperatures. I went to reach for my zipper to remove my jacket, but soon remembered my hands were handcuffed.
“Are these honestly still necessary?” I asked the guard to my right with a light chuckle.
He scowled down in my direction sternly. “There’s no need for talking Miss Park, please keep moving.”

As we walked through the airport, parents shielded their children from me. I never stopped smirking. I knew this was supposed to be serious, and it was, but these people were so funny. If looks could kill, the entire airport would’ve ended me on the spot.

After the guard escorting me cleared everything, we finally made it outside into the warm California sun. The guard gripped my arm and brought me to a police cruiser. He sat me in the back seat and closed the door. Just like any cruiser, the back doors couldn’t be opened from the inside. The guard tapped the roof of the car and the officer driving took off.

The school wasn’t far from the airport. As we pulled up, I held my breath. The entire building was surrounded by barbed fencing. At the entrance to the large building stood a man at least six feet tall wearing a suit. He wore aviator sunglasses. The officer came around to my door and let me out. The two guards that stood by the man in the glasses approached the car, each of them grabbed one of my arms and brought me to this unknown man.

The man lowered his sunglasses to reveal his hazel-green gaze. The closer we got I noticed a perfect white smile accompanied by deep set dimples in each cheek.

“Welcome, you must be Cali.” He held a hand out to shake. I pulled my arm away from the guard and shook is hand. They felt rough to the touch. “I’m Mr. Sanders, the principal and founder of this school.”

“Great, can’t wait.” I said with as much sarcasm as I could muster.

His smirk faded and his dimples disappeared. He grabbed one of my arms himself and began pulling me toward the double doors. He placed a finger on the door lock pad and it opened, letting us both inside, the guards in tow. Judging by the fast pace we walked and the grunts escaping his lips, Mr. Sanders was annoyed with me.

We got to the end of the entrance hall and stopped in a four way hall break. “Take this fucking brat to her dorm.” He shoved me toward one of the guards.

My jaw dropped at his remark. I turned to look at him with scorn. Who the hell did he think he was? “Excuse me, I’m a STUDENT and this is a SCHOOL.” I scoffed, “there are rules and shit that say you’re not allowed to speak to me like that.”

His lips turned into a thin line. He walked toward me briskly, and I backed up as far as I could before I backed into one of the guards. They each grabbed an arm, and Mr. Sanders grabbed my face. He squeezed my face so hard I tasted blood. He brought his face close to mine and lowered himself to see eye-to-eye with me.

“This isn’t normal SCHOOL, it’s a confinement school for troubled teens, like yourself.” He paused to let me absorb his words. “You are a CRIMINAL, and the only reason you’re in here is because the judge you had happened to know who I was and about the program I’m doing here. We are here to give you an education, and teach you how terrible it is in prison. No one is nice to girls who act like cunts in here, and it’s better you realize that now. Behave, and you might notice a difference.”

He dropped his grip and I swear my face stayed in place. I was in total shock. This place wasn’t fooling around. They really meant to whip people into shape. The guards dragged me away. My heart was racing with every door we passed. I finally closed my swollen mouth before one of the guards used a fingerprint to open one of the big mechanical doors.

When the door opened there were three girls sitting inside. Each one looked tougher than I thought I was. The guard on my right turned me around quickly while the other released my handcuffs. I rubbed my wrists, and they wasted no time shoving me into the room and closing the door behind me.

My heart sunk as I looked around the room and realized, I was screwed.

Notes

Hey guys! I hope you enjoy let me know what you think!