Get Out | Teen Ink

Get Out

January 21, 2011
By Hollypaw18 GOLD, Brooklyn, New York
Hollypaw18 GOLD, Brooklyn, New York
16 articles 0 photos 7 comments

Favorite Quote:
"Everyone is different, it's the natural state- it's the facts, it's plain to see. The world's gray enough without making it worse. What we need is individuality!"
- Billy Elliot's "Expressing Yourself"

Who would have thought that I’d end up here, trapped, silenced, jailed. Not my parents. But, I guess, they don’t know anything anyway. They’d never expect that I’d do anything wrong, much less kill anybody. But that’s what happened, so they’d better deal with it.

I’m not psychotic, delusional, mentally unstable… I’m just me. And I’ve got an excuse. It’s just that no one believes me. I don’t have a tendency to lie or anything- it just sounds incredibly unrealistic. But it is real. At least you believe me, right? I mean, you’re my friend so you’ve got to believe me.

There’s another girl here in the dark, musty cell that’s my new home. She’s about my age, maybe a little older. Seventeen, I’m guessing. The girl’s with me, but she’s not very good company. Mute. I saw her talk at her case, yelling, fuming, crying… but now, ever since she got labeled as “guilty”, she’s been silent. Not that I mind. I always keep to myself, and people tend not to talk to me so much because of it, but I don’t mind. Friends always end up bringing you down in the end.
I guess I could’ve tried to make friends- get someone who’s willing to bail me out of here. But it’s too late now. I have to find a way to escape. I could probably make a break for it at lunch… but the guards will catch me. I could cry my way out- make them feel sorry for me or… I don’t know. I’ll be trapped here for the rest of my life- banished, forgotten. There’s no way out. If I could get out of jail, I guess, I’d be on the run for the rest of my life. I wouldn’t get attached to anyone and no one would get attached to me because I’d be constantly moving.
None of this will ever happen, though. There’s no possibility.
“LUNCH BREAK,” The robotic voice on the loudspeaker blares. No one here has a real personality, so I wouldn’t be surprised if that actually was a real person… or a robot. You never know.
A guard unlocks the cell door and leads us out, the other girl sulking along behind him and me glancing around behind her. I soon notice that there’s another guard behind me, so there’s no way to run now. He could taze me so fast that I’d not have even taken two steps before I was on the ground, back in my cell again, with no lunch. So I wait.
The mess hall is dimly lit, a few light fixtures here and there on the ceiling. About fifteen other girls are already there, getting lunch, eating, fighting. I choose to sit alone. Soon enough, a couple more girls join me, sitting about 3 yards away. I glare at them, notice they don’t see me, and move to the other side of the table.
Eventually, they call us for lunch. On my way to the line, a serious fight breaks out between a guard and a girl I know as Gretch. The guard tripped Gretch, so she started wailing on him- punching him, kicking him, knocking him to the floor. Blood is everywhere.
I hear a clatter. The guard’s gun slides across the dirty mess hall floor. I don’t hesitate. It’s in my hand before the other guards can come and help the injured guy. I silently slip the gun under my shirt and stroll away from the fight; away from the guards. I manage to slip past the guards at the entrance to the mess hall- they ran to help their colleague. I run down the hall, looking left and right for guards. I see a couple and slow down, making it look like I’m on my way back to my cell. In the lavatory, I tear off the prison uniform, revealing normal clothes that I always keep on just in case the time for them comes.
I manage to get some fake tears streaming down my cheeks and tap a guard on his shoulder after I leave the bathroom.
“Excuse me?” I sniff, putting on my most scared, worried face. “I- I was here for visiting time seeing my sister and… and I got lost… my parents aren’t here, so could you please lead me to the exit? I was supposed to be home half an hour ago…”
The guard places his hand on my shoulder and leads me away from the cells, down the hall, and to the exit. The man at the entrance desk looked at me funny like he’d seen me before- which he had- but the guard escorting me told him the story and we were waved on.
“Can you get home alright?” he asked, expressing care that I couldn’t tell was real or fake- robotic, as I call it.
“No, no, it’s just around the corner. But thank you! I don’t know what u’d have done if the other guards thought I was a prisoner or something… after all, I’d never do anything to… to get me in there… anyway, thanks!” I called, making my way down the block.
I kept at a steady pace, but when I reached the corner, I bolted. Finally, I was out!

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