Sheltered | Teen Ink

Sheltered

February 15, 2013
By Hayden Proudmoore SILVER, Colfax, California
Hayden Proudmoore SILVER, Colfax, California
5 articles 0 photos 0 comments

I backed up against the wall, putting my hand flat across it and one foot braced against it. I concentrated on the opposite wall as I breathed in and out. With as much force as I could muster I launched off the wall and sprinted towards the opposite side head first. Just before I reached it I leaped forward, slamming against it. Unfortunately my impact was entirely cushioned, yet again, by the strange rubbery material that made up my walls. I lay on the ground pathetically, defeated by this god forsaken place yet again.

It was getting dark and, as usual, at night I was to be taken and forced to consume what they called ‘food’. The workers came and picked my limp body off the ground, forcing me to rise to my feet. I stared blankly at them as they made me take my medicine. Every time I left my room I had to take this collection of pills to calm me down, it was to ‘protect me’ from myself, I guess. We walked down the hallway towards the cafeteria; every glance I made at one of the workers was instantly met with a big, happy, overdone and fake smile. These people truly disgust me. Just once I’d like to be met with a grimace, the ever so sweet sign of displeasure.

I slowly made my way into the cafeteria, dragging my body along as the drugs really started to kick in. I very well know exactly what they want me to do; I mean, there was an obvious place to pick up the food. But regardless, I just stood there and stared at one of the workers with a confused look on my face. The man smiled at me, I was already ready to throw up. If that wasn’t enough, when he came over I wasn’t greeted with a brisk shove like I always had been at the prison. I really do miss that place. Instead, he gently showed me the way to the line, he’s just a coward.

The cafeteria has an overwhelming smell of steak with the not so prominent smell of the cake they had baked for desert. When I got up to the front of the line they handed me a plate and offered me a selection of sodas. I know I have to pick one, but the sugary taste makes me nauseous. I already have to eat the cake, I don’t know what I did to deserve this. I pointed at a random one and went on my way. My seat was near the corner of the room, it gave me a nice view of everyone as I sat there trying to understand this place. When I was told that I was being transferred into the psychiatric system I envisioned a much different place. I mean, what happened to it all? Where was the shock therapy? I could sure go for a sit in an electric chair right about now. I would even be cool with them cutting apart my brain, or maybe try some new ambitious form of mild torture to fix me? That’s what this place needs. How can they expect to help people by treating them like this?



Finally, it was time to go back into our cells. I walked slowly across the room and down the hall, taunting the guards by wasting their time. I just wanted for them to show any real emotion to me. But no, they just smiled and gently helped me along like I am incapable of walking by myself. When I returned to my room I dropped myself onto the comfy ground where they had picked me up from earlier. I just lay there, on the floor, listening. Sometimes late at night I could hear the sound of screams from the prison I had transferred from, it was the only pleasure I could find in this terrible place.



The workers slammed on my door bright and early, as they always do, to make sure I’m awake. They came in and picked me up off the floor, then handed me the medicine to take and turned away to lead me to the cafeteria for breakfast. I saw this as an opportunity, so I slipped the medicine into my pocket and pretended I had swallowed it. I quickly followed the
worker down the hall; this time I kept up with him and didn’t even look at the other workers, they didn’t matter. When I got there I stopped, although I wasn’t doing it for attention like all the other days I did this. I stared at a window directly across the cafeteria from where I was. I never noticed it there before, or I guess I never bothered to look for it.


This window is my escape, outside of it was freedom and all of the emotion I couldn’t handle. Just as the world should be, it shouldn’t be some horribly happy place like this. I took off in a dead sprint towards the window. The workers didn’t react very quickly as I ran past them, I’m sure they aren’t exactly used to this kind of behavior from their drugged up patients. As I approached the window I could see what was outside. This floor was multiple stories up, jumping out of this window would probably mean my death. This was my only chance though, I can’t hesitate or the moment might be lost. I sped my advance to the window and with all my might I leaped through it, shattering it instantly and filling my body with the much missed pleasure of pain as the shards of glass tore up my skin.



I can hear the screams of the workers as I plunge towards the ground, seems like they finally decided to show some emotion. What if this isn’t quite death height though and I just break my legs but am later saved; that would be a tragedy. I acted quickly and spun my body around trying to position myself head first to assure death. It is difficult to control yourself when you’re falling like this though, all I can really do is flail around. Before I could even give it a second thought my descent was stopped. I felt a sharp pain in my back as a fence post ripped through it. I slid slowly down the post that impaled me as blood gushed out from the wound in my chest. I struggled a little out of reaction at first, but I figured that I should probably just enjoy it while it lasts. I was approaching death quickly, as I felt it overcome my body I also felt a feeling of pure ecstasy shoot through my veins, I was more than happy to die. I couldn’t ask for a better treatment.



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