Chapter 14 – nor ask another man to live for mine.”

Chapter 14 – nor ask another man to live for mine.”

A Chapter by LT Kodzo

On hour later, I know I’m more angry at myself than I am at the rest of them. I didn’t want to hurt Dee Dee’s feelings, but let’s be serious, none of them were virgins, yet only I was pregnant. I rub my non-existent belly bump and hike up the hill. The Keep-It-Green Team needs to clear out the timber cut by The Center’s owners. I push away the guilt the peer group wants me to feel. For now, I’m in control and they can all bite it.

I’m going to forget about it all. If I want to, I can make myself glad. Glad to be at The Center. Glad to be ten minutes early on the mountain.

I kick a rock. Glad to kick it.

Glad.

Kick.

Glad.

Kick.

Glad.

The lie actually starts to take hold until Fisher’s voice chills the hair on my neck. “Hello, Princess.”

I pull away from him and sneer. He never signs up for labor details. I’ve been able to avoid him for weeks. The hill behind him is empty. That means I’ll have at least nine minutes alone for him to act a fool.  

He folds his arms across his chest. “Haven’t seen you since orientation.”

I look up the mountain before making eye contact. I make my voice hard and say, “Yeah, I have to say, I’ve missed your ugly mug.”

His laugh doesn’t trigger the same contagious response as before. Our juvenile records belong to us. We are free to keep our crimes private from other inmates. Fisher still has no idea why I’m here, and I have no idea why he’s here. The reality that he could be a rapist presses against my heart. I fight back a shudder.

“What brings you up the mountain today?”

“You.” His smile is sinister. He licks his lips and lifts his eyebrows.

Gross. I swallow and say, “How sweet.” I curtsey then take a step sideways toward a tree. My mind goes to fights I had with girls in the past. Usually contained a lot of hair pulling and biting. That technique won’t work on the stronger Fisher. “You’re a regular good Samaritan.” I need to keep him talking.

“Come on, light-weight, you can cut it.”

“Cut what?”

“Pretending.” He steps toward me and I instinctively move back. “You know why I’m here.”

I dart around the tree. Above a camera blinks. My mind fills with hope for less than a half second. I point to it. “Seriously, you know they’ll zap you.”

“That?” His laugh ricochets off the trees. “20,000 cameras are useless without 20,000 people to watch them 24/7?”

The possibility that absolutely no one is watching us is very real. Thinking back to what I said to Dee Dee, this whole moment feels like payback. The Center has a way of keeping the inmates in line.

At least one.

Me.

I have to humor Fisher until someone else arrives. “Look,” I hold my hands up in surrender. “You don’t want to do anything that will get you sent back to prison.”

“You wish!” He laughs again.

And I do. I don’t blame this jerk for his behavior. I blame The Center. I hated how wrong Uncle John had been about this place on so many levels. On my next step back, I trip over a small shrub, but right myself quickly. I need to stay on my feet as long as possible.

“Only one problem princess, I know I’ll spend my life in prison. I don’t kid myself. But I’m not there now. Am I? You see, I’ve got a real issue, a need. I’ve got an itch that needs scratched.” He rushes me and I slip out of his grip.

I turn and run at the sound of him tripping over the bush that almost got me. 

I focus forward, not sure if I’m running toward help or closer to the electric fence. I dart left past a large boulder. Behind me his boots crunch on the mixture of needles and dirt. His breath pants. I beg my legs to run faster. I beg my feet to stay planted. I’ve never been athletic, but I won’t give up. As I hear him gaining on me, I’m reminded of my first time. According to Jackson, legally it would have been considered rape since I was 12 and he was 29. But it wasn’t the violence Fisher seeks.

I dart around another tree as Fisher cuts me off and tackles me into the wet pine-needle filled dirt. Twenty-nine-year-old Kurt fills my head, as I kick Fisher in the arm and leg and face, I remember being so excited to meet the handsome guy from Facebook.

Fisher manages to pin me and I recall the movie Kurt took me to had aliens in it.

I scratch at Fisher’s face.

Before I can remember how I both wanted and didn’t want to have sex with Kurt, Fisher collapses on top of me. I struggle and bite and punch the jock with no reaction. It’s not until I squirm my way out from under Fisher’s dead weight that I notice Mario standing above us with a thick branch in his hand covered in Fisher’s blood.



© 2015 LT Kodzo


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Added on October 4, 2015
Last Updated on October 4, 2015
Tags: young adult, prison, detention center, locker 572, survival, christian, dystopian

The Center


Author

LT Kodzo
LT Kodzo

Rock Springs, WY



About
I'm the author of 2 published works of Fiction as well as a series of Picture Books I wrote for my children over 20 years ago. more..

Writing
The Center The Center

A Book by LT Kodzo