Imprisoned (Parallel Series, Book 2) (Parallel Trilogy), page 9
At three minutes to go, Hansen gradually slowed the treadmill down, allowing me to begin catching my breath. Finally the thirty minutes were over. Placing my hands on my hips, I stood on the motionless treadmill and worked to drag oxygen into my lungs. The Enforcers were still there and I wondered what fresh hell awaited me next, but then Austin showed up.
“Next time, Morgan, you’ll do what I tell you,” he said. “Yeah?”
Knowing I had lost this round, I nodded. “Yeah.”
“Gentlemen,” he said to Hansen and his partner. “You may go.”
“See you around, buddy,” Hansen said.
Then they fist-bumped, like they had just heard good news or won a game or something. Fury at all three men blossomed within me, but my complete impotence kept me from doing anything about it.
“I think it’s time you work on free weights,” Austin said to me.
Since I obviously had no choice in the matter, I did as I was told, using my anger as energy to get through the rest of my workout.
Chapter Eleven
When I got back to my room I looked at my legs where Hansen and his friend had hit me with their batons. As I suspected, bruises were forming on both legs, reminders of my “discipline”. Now that I was alone I collapsed on my bed and sobbed, reliving the horrendous experience in the gym. As fat tears dripped down my cheeks, I pictured Hansen’s face and the pleasure he had seemed to derive from making me suffer. What kind of person enjoyed something like that? He was a monster.
I replayed the nearly unbearable memory over and over in my mind and realized that even though I had been thoroughly humiliated and even though I believed the punishment was cruel and unusual, I had refused to let them break me. The more I thought about it, the more I realized that that was exactly what they were trying to do. For criminals like me, they wanted to break our spirits so that we would comply with the absurd rules of this society.
Well, I would not comply. And I would not let them break me.
This sudden understanding of their technique was like a revelation. Maybe now that I recognized what they were doing, I could let incidents like the one in the gym roll right off of me.
Of course that would mean I would need to act like they were winning, like I was becoming compliant, but I would only have to do that until I could escape. At the thought, I tried to come up with a way to get out of here, but came up empty. Besides the fact that there was a chip in my arm tracking my every move, I had no access to the ground floor, so no way to get out.
Then I remembered that Kyle had promised to put in a request to have me join the gardening work group and I felt a small measure of hope—enough hope to help me get up and get ready to meet with the counseling group. Things had gone well there the night before, so I felt confident that it would be the same that night. I just had to fake my way through it. After a quick shower, I headed to the ninth floor to meet with my group. The first thing I noticed when I walked into the classroom, besides the fact that the chairs were arranged in a circle again, was a large scale in the center of the circle.
Wondering what that was all about, I found an empty seat. Mrs. Reynolds wasn’t there yet and neither was Billy, but most everyone else was. I noticed Chad, the other new kid, in his seat, and I remembered how he’d been singled out the night before and then punished. Fresh worry coursed through me and I knew I had better stay on my guard. Even though I was confident of their methods now, I still had to live through whatever they doled out and I didn’t relish the idea of being the object of scorn or humiliation.
Billy waltzed in and sat across from me. My gaze met his and he smiled at me, which warmed me. After what I’d been through in the gym, it felt good to know I had at least one friend in this group. With the way he never seemed intimidated, I wondered if he’d also clued in to the techniques they used here.
Everyone but Mrs. Reynolds was there and I wondered if it was possible that she wouldn’t show up. That hope vanished immediately when she walked in. When she reached the edge of our circle, she stopped and stared at the scale, which we were all facing. “I see someone hasn’t weighed themselves in over twenty-four hours.” She had a lilt in her voice, like she was having a good time.
I noticed the other kids looking around. I guessed they were trying to figure out who it was. Then it dawned on me that I hadn’t weighed myself since getting on Dr. Bradley’s scale two nights before. Could it be me she was talking about? What would happen if it was?
She walked into the circle and sat on her chair, then held up her tablet. “Please check in.”
We lined up and scanned our cards through her reader, then took our seats.
“All arise for the pledge,” she said.
I chanted the words along with everyone else. “I pledge to always follow the rules and to take care of my body. I will strive to put the good of all above the desires of one. A healthy me is a healthy world.” As I said them, I understood that saying them in conjunction with the treatment we received here was all part of the indoctrination. We didn’t just say the pledge once a day, like in the schools, but in every class and in every “re-education” session. I had to make sure the words didn’t get into my subconscious.
After we sat, Mrs. Reynolds looked at each of us in turn, then looked at Chad. I felt a gush of relief that he was the one who was going to be picked on instead of me.
“Mr. Beacon,” she said. “Please remind us what our subject was about last night.”
He shifted in his chair, obviously uncomfortable to have Mrs. Reynolds focus her attention on him. “Uh, that it’s important to follow the rules?”
She smiled at him and he noticeably relaxed. “Very good.” Then she looked at each of us again. “We had a good discussion last night and everyone seemed to understand this concept. However, some of you,” she stared pointedly at Billy, “may say the right things,” then she looked directly at me, “but your behavior makes a different statement.”
My hands began to sweat and my heart pounded. It was me all along. Though I talked a good game about not letting their treatment affect me, in reality it affected me completely.
“Morgan Campbell,” she said with a look of disapproval.
“Yes?” I croaked, my throat suddenly dry.
“When did you last weigh yourself?”
I knew exactly when, but I was afraid to say it. “I’m . . . I’m not sure.”
She looked at her tablet. “Well, I am. It was during processing.” She looked at the rest of the group. “That was two days ago.” She paused, then looked at Billy. “Mr. Foster. How often are the campers supposed to weigh themselves while staying at Camp Willowmoss?”
He glanced at me, clearly not wanting to be drawn into her game. “Daily.”
Her gaze whipped back to me. “Daily. That’s right.” She pursed her lips. “Do you feel you’re somehow above the rules, Miss Campbell?”
As a matter of fact, I thought the rules were ludicrous, but there was no way I would say that out loud. I’d had enough “discipline” for one day. “No.”
“Yet you act as if you are. Why is that?”
“I’m just not used to the rules. That’s all.” I hoped she was almost done because I didn’t know how much more of this I could take.
“Not used to the rules? What kind of parents did you have? You should have been brought up with these rules.”
The way she dissed my parents, as if she knew anything about them or me, made me livid. It wasn’t their fault that everything was so screwed up in this world. Angry words pushed up my throat, but miraculously, I held them in as I mentally chanted I won’t let them break me. I won’t let them break me.
“Well? What do you have to say for yourself?”
Remembering that I wanted to get through this as painlessly as possible, I pushed my pride down deep, then said, “I’m really sorry. I was just trying to get used to everything here and I forgot.” Which was true, except for the part where I was sorry.
She nodded. “Okay, okay. I can understand that.”
Relief that this was coming to an end began to fill me and I started to relax.
“Morgan, please get on the scale.”
“What?” Dread replaced the relief.
She stood and went to the scale, then held out her hand. “Come on now. We don’t have all night.”
I felt the eyes of the others on me as I walked to the scale and stepped on. Mrs. Reynolds looked at the numbers on the digital read-out and stated them out loud so that everyone could hear.
Though I felt embarrassed to have my weight advertised, I was pleased to know I had lost two pounds since arriving. Of course with all the physical activity I’d been doing, coupled with the lower caloric intake, I would have been shocked if I hadn’t lost any weight.
“You may sit down,” Mrs. Reynolds said.
Once I was seated, she sat as well. “You still need to lose eighteen pounds, Morgan.”
Why did she have to announce that? “I know.”
She took a five by seven inch card out of her pocket and wrote something on it with a thick red marker, then put it in a plastic sleeve which was attached to a cord. “Here you go, Morgan.” She passed the card to me.
I looked at the card. She had written my weight on it.
“You’re to wear that for the next twenty-four hours so everyone can see that you failed to weigh yourself.”
What? It was bad enough that she’d told everyone in my counseling group what I weighed. Now everyone at Camp Willowmoss would know.
“Go ahead. Put it on.”
Clenching my jaw in mortification, I put the cord over my head and let the plastic sleeve hang where it was clearly visible.
“Good. Now, let’s talk about why the good of society takes precedence over the needs of the individual.”
Hyper-aware of the sign hanging around my neck, I tried to focus on the discussion so that when she called on me I’d have an answer. I managed to get through the rest of the session unscathed, but by the time I got back to my room I was mentally and physically exhausted. And I still had homework to do.
I succeeded in finishing my Math homework, but then it was time for lights out so I had no choice but to go to bed.
The next morning I awoke to Alyx yelling at me and roughly shaking me. “You stupid idiot. Why did I have to get you as my roommate?”
I opened my eyes, disoriented and confused. “What’s going on? What’s wrong?”
“This.” She held up a card identical to the one Mrs. Reynolds had given me the night before, but it had a different number on it.
I sat up. “I don’t understand.”
“Thanks to your stupidity, I have to wear this all day today.” Her face showed her anger.
“But I’m the one who forgot to weigh myself. Not you.”
“No kidding.” She began pacing our small room. “Did you already forget what I told you?” She stopped pacing and stood in front of me. “When you do something wrong, it’s on me too.”
“I’m so sorry, Alyx.” Then I thought about it and wondered why this was such a big deal. But then I made the mistake of voicing my thoughts. “Why is this such a bad thing? So we have to walk around one day advertising our weight. So what?”
She stormed over to me and grabbed my pajama top in her fists. “So what? So what? This little forgetfulness of yours cost me two points. That may not mean much to you, but to me it means I have to stay here an extra week.” She let go of my top. “Are you starting to get the picture?”
If it cost her two points, what had it cost me? Mr. Madsen had said I could earn the privilege of seeing my family. Would this keep that from happening? I stared at Alyx as the seriousness of this infraction swept over me. “Is there anything I can do to fix it?”
She glared at me. “No. And right now I don’t want to even be around you.” She turned her back to me and worked on getting ready.
Feeling awful, I climbed out of bed and trudged down the hall to the bathroom, praying I wouldn’t run in to Beth on top of everything else. My one bit of luck for the day was that Beth was nowhere to be seen. I was able to get ready without incident—making sure to weigh myself on the scale in the corner, the same kind of scale I had used in my house—before going back to my room.
Alyx was still there and it was nearly time to go to breakfast, then I realized I had forgotten to fill out my food journal again. “I just need a few minutes to fill out my food journal,” I said to her.
“Whatever. I’m not waiting for you.”
I looked at her in surprise.
“And by the way,” she said. “You’re not welcome at my table.” Then she left the room.
Chapter Twelve
Panic slammed down on me as I realized I’d been banished from the only group that I knew. Who would I sit with? Would they accept me?
“They’re not going to break me,” I said through clenched teeth, my voice hitching as I tried to control my emotions.
Not wanting things to get any worse, I made sure to fill out my food journal before folding it and putting it in my pocket. Then, making sure the cord with my weight attached was hanging around my neck—though it felt like a lead weight—I left my room and headed toward the elevators. No one else was waiting for the elevators and I stood there facing the doors, alone.
A group of girls walked up behind me. I ignored them, wanting to be invisible and just get through breakfast without anything else happening.
It was not to be.
“Look who it is,” a voice said. “It’s the new girl.”
I felt a tap on my shoulder and a shiver of fear charged up my spine. I kept my back to Beth and prayed she would leave me alone.
Instead, she grabbed my shoulder and spun me around. Surrounded by her group of friends, she glared at me.
These were not the kinds of witnesses I had hoped to have.
She pointed at the card with my weight on it and laughed, then turned to her friends. “What a loser.” Then she turned back to me. “I’ll bet Alyx was pissed at you today.”
How did she know? Then I realized everyone but me had probably seen this type of thing happen before and knew what the consequences would be.
“Well, what do you have to say for yourself? Loser.”
I didn’t take the bait, but just stood there. I glanced at her group, but immediately saw I would get no help from them.
“What? You suddenly can’t talk?” she said. “You had plenty to say yesterday when I told you to get out of my seat.”
She stepped toward me and I moved back a step, my back against the elevator doors. She got right in my face and it smelled like she hadn’t brushed her teeth that morning.
Ding.
The elevator arrived.
She smiled at me. “You got lucky. This time.”
The doors to the elevator opened and I backed into the car, glad to be among other people. People who didn’t know who I was and didn’t care. And they didn’t hate me.
When we arrived at the cafeteria floor I got off last, wanting to keep my distance from Beth and her gang. As I waited in line, I considered what I could do to fix what had happened to Alyx. It was so unfair that she should be punished for my stupidity.
When I reached the front of the line I waved my card in front of the reader and deposited my food journal, then grabbed my tray. My appetite had diminished with the stresses of the morning, but as food was handed to me my stomach let me know I had better eat. When I’d collected my last item, I turned to the room and looked towards the table where my group sat. I caught Piper looking at me, but as soon as our eyes met she looked down.
Now there were two empty seats at that table—mine and Harley’s.
I wondered what would happen if I went to the table and sat in one of the chairs, but I didn’t have the courage to do it. Instead, I stood there, searching the room for a place where I might be welcome. Besides my group, I only knew Harley and Kiera. Suddenly hopeful I could sit with one of them, I took a step forward, my gaze frantically hunting for a friendly face. After a moment I found Harley, but there were no empty seats at his table. Then I saw Kiera. Miraculously, there was one empty seat. And it was next to her.
Feeling optimistic, I moved in her direction, but when I was about ten feet away, a girl sat in the empty seat and I knew my chance was lost. I glanced around. Too late, I saw I was standing next to Beth’s table.
“Look, it’s the loser,” she said loudly enough for all in the immediate vicinity to hear. “No one wants to sit with her.”
I couldn’t help it, tears sprang to my eyes. Blinking furiously as I walked away, I got them under control and went in a different direction—making sure to go nowhere near my usual table. Every table had at least two people. I stopped next to a table with two boys, hoping they’d be nice to me—after all, it had been girls that had been mean to me so far. “Do you mind if I sit with you?”
“No, that’s cool,” one of them said. He glanced at the card hanging around my neck, then looked me up and down. But it wasn’t in a mean way—he just seemed curious. “You’re in my English class,” he said. “I’m Todd.”
Overwhelmed with relief that someone was showing a hint of kindness, it was all I could do to not throw my arms around him. “I’m Morgan.”
“Darren,” the other boy at the table said.
As usual, I wondered what their story was. They were both built like linebackers and I wondered if that was a bad thing in this world. “How long have you guys been here?”
“Just a couple of weeks,” Todd said. “What about you?”
“This is my third day.”
He nodded. “Why aren’t you sitting with your group?” His question caught me off-guard, and it must have shown because he quickly added, “I mean, I just noticed that you usually sat with some other kids, but today . . .”
