Stars of Solace (ep. 3)

I guess that first impressions matter more than what the average person is willing to admit. When I met Alice, she was this beautiful girl that caught me at first glance. Quite stern and calm, irradiating confidence. Honestly, I could only dream of dating a girl like her. Of course, to my surprise, she had a thing for me as well. We had fun after the first rehearsal for a few cover songs from our favorite bands. Yet every time I remember that day, I can't help but to smile and feel a bit embarrassed about my behavior. I guess I have grown more confident since then. As it turns out, she is actually quite sweet and loving. A little meek once she reveals her true self.

On the other hand, there's Sboc. A confident man in his late forties that was able to distract my mother from her daily issues. I grew to like the guy at first because it meant that he kept the weight off my shoulders, but then everything changed. The more I knew him, the more he fell from my good graces. Probably the one thing I hated about him the most was that he was so smug, especially while drunk. I swear that man was always drinking, so I even changed his name in refusal to call him by his real one. To me, he was just a stupid bag of crap. Maybe it was my instincts trying to warn me of something, but then again, perhaps I was judging him too harshly without knowing him more.

- August 6th, 2012 - (Day One)

Speaking of first impressions, mine here was as a boy with repressed emotions that wanted to burst out. I was sent to the youth's ward because I was still a minor at the time. A room with ten bunk beds where there was only one empty space reserved for me. I was greeted with frowns and heavy eyes as I was walked into the room the same way that I was sent into the infirmary.--"I request to speak to whoever is in charge! This is a mistake!"--I yelled at the man. He responded by laughing and walking away.

As I sat on an old and lumpy mattress that held only a thin pillow, a young guy approached me. His name was Irving, and I speak in past tense because of what was to come. He saw me daunted by this new reality, so he decided to attempt to lift my spirits. After a few moments of talking, the big man with the flattop haircut came into the room with the smaller guy. They introduced themselves as "The Panther, and Gigo," respectively. Gigo made it clear that what they say goes, and that any further resistance will be met with the weight of an iron fist. So the guy that wanted to put me at ease was caught hiding bread underneath his mattress after a routine bed check. That was the moment when the Panther took Irving and dragged him by the neck into the hallway. I can still hear his screams and pleads of mercy that echoed faintly from afar, engraved in my mind. His loudest scream was followed by a crack and a heavy thud. Everybody sat in silence, avoiding to look at each other.

One of my ears popped in the silence fed by the nineteen minors that sat in the room. Drained of hope, as if their souls had left their bodies and become puppets of the circumstance. My question then was, who pulls the strings?

It has been almost two hours since they took Irving away. I am afraid of moving at this point, and seemingly, so do the others. It was only when Gigo came back into the room to tell us to form a line so that we could be driven into the dining hall for breakfast. Every time we went through a door, everybody said, "I humbly request permission to enter" in a discouraged monotone.

Once we arrived at the dining hall, I recognized the place as it was where I walked, still reeking of naivete. The idiot I was to not piece together the fact that I being dragged into what is now my personal hell, my ongoing horror.

The breakfast in question were thin flapjacks, which others ate with no fork or any other utensil. They drank cucumber water, and licked their fingers. A mixed bag of teens with bad habits or simply starving.

As for me... I did not eat out of protest, but rather because I couldn't find my appettite. My stomach didn't even grumble but rather sank alongside my spirits.

I felt a gaze on me. I tilted my head to find a girl with big, blue eyes and light-brunette hair, who was looking at my plastic dish.--"Are you gonna eat that?"--She asked.--"I'm not hungry."--I muttered.--"May I humbly-"--She was asking as I cut her off.--"Help yourself."--I said as I slid the plate towards her. She spared no moment as she indulged, looking as if she genuinely enjoyed poorly made flapjacks. Her eyes lit up. I could tell she was grateful despite her words, not speaking it so. Honestly, it helped me feel a bit better. We both stared at the barred windows that teased a garden with wide patches of grass.

After breakfast, we had to clean up after ourselves and head towards a collective evaluation. As we headed there, the girl walked up to me and whispered.--"Thank you. I'm Rosie."--She said.--"Don't mention it. I'm Axel."--I replied. It took her a moment to talk back again, for I hadn't noticed that we were being watched by some of the men that held us there.--"Like the singer? Put us together, and we could almost make out his name."-- She muttered without looking at me as if she tried to keep a discreet conversation. I just nodded.

The evaluation took place in an empty, concrete room where we had to sit in a circle in the middle. Rosie sat next to me, and so we continued our conversation. I gather that she was looking for comfort as well because her tone was one that tried desperately to not seem nervous. She told me how she missed her life outside when she hadn't the need to worry about surviving. Leading a life as a freshman high-school student that had gone missing was a dreadful thought for her.

As the day went on, I only felt tested, evaluated, observed, and studied as if I were some strange fluke of existence. However, I wasn't alone. Nineteen other teenagers were trapped here as well; one of them was taken away. I can only assume by the noises earlier that he met a terrible fate, and here I am left to wonder if I will meet my end here as well.

All I know is that something feels wrong here, and I am rationing the paper on this notebook to tell you what I think should be highlighted. I fear for my safety and now Rosie's since she is just as confused as me.