The Rules Of Life

Prison High

It was just a regular day at Prison High. Yes, this is a real high school. A school were ex-criminals are isolated in a building getting the education they need. It did feel like prison at times. The dark grey walls, the metal bars nailed to the windows and not to mention the officers that walk around the campus just to 'check on us'.

I woke up today with a strange feeling. My day was just like a usual day; I took a shower, hopped into a grey sweater and some ripped jeans and went down to the kitchen where my mother had prepared me a smoothy to take along with me. Every morning she would remind me to be good in school, not just get good grades, but also to behave well. One wrong move and it will be added to your list of wrongdoings. And believe me when I tell you these bitter people will note everything you do. One kid dropped a harmless food knife on the table, which landed next to this other student. They pinned the kid down accusing him of wanting to kill his classmate. Yes, they are all nuts there.

Before I headed out the door, my mother handed me my school tag, which was a tracker, tracking our every step. With a press of a button, they had all the information about our whereabouts. They always said it was for our own protection, but they ousted wanted to use it to their advantage.

The same smell of the filled classroom and the projector playing a TED-talk about behaviour. The school made us watch the same video everyday to try and help us to become better people. I honestly don't know how that video, that we know all by heart, should help us develop into 'normal people'. Half of the class was paying attention, while the other half would draw in their books.

The video ended and then it was our turn to work. The teacher handed us a small stack of papers, that we were going to work on for the next week. The stack had the most important subject like English, Math and Sciences. Each student had their own customised stack. Plus the director loved to add a few articles to read, to let us know what was going on in the world. My only concern was what kind of information they were giving us. They could be filtering all the news into things that they only want us to know about and they things that we should be knowing about is lost in the recycling bin.

Everyone opened their papers and started to work, so did I. First paper was about Shakespeare and his play 'Macbeth'. I was supposed to read an extract of the book and then analyse it and give a comment to it.

While I started writing my short summary, my eyes travelled around the room. I knew each one of their stories, some mild and some horrifying.

Terry over there was apart of a drug dealing group just a few blocks away. It ended pretty bad if you ask me. He lost all his friends and his family practically disowned him. Sucks to be him.

Emilia, sitting just a few seats away from me murdered her best friend for sending out her nudes to the rest of the school. To this day I wonder how the best friend got her nudes, wouldn't she have sent it to her lover? Or was her best friend her lover? We will never know.

Most of the people in this class were so called "bad criminals". Many of them were dealing drugs or even selling guns to teenagers, that wanted to protect themselves. Others, however cold heartlessly killed people. There were also classes who we called the "good kids", because all they had really done in their life was steal a chocolate bar.

And then there is me. What did I do to deserve to be stuck in his hell whole? Are you ready to hear the real story? Are you?

It was about a year ago when the cops were standing outside my door. That time I was attending a high end private school and not to mention I was top 10 in my grade. The cops informed me that my ex-boyfriend was killed the other day and they wanted me to come to the station to be questioned. I was driven to the station and waited an awfully long time for anyone to ask me if I killed him. Of course I did not. But they did not believe a word I said. They told me they had a witness, that saw me with him the day of his murder. We supposedly had a fight. That was the first time I heard that I was 'apparently' till seeing him.

I call Bull. I was not remotely interested into meeting him after he had cheated on me and then left me for the other girl. Yes, I was hurt, but I took a week of school to just process everything. Besides I did not have a reason to even harm him. I was doing good in school, I had the awesomest friends a teenager can imagine and I was seeing someone new. The main point, I was over him. When I asked them who the witness was, they said the person wanted their identity hidden. Turned out it was the girl that he left me for. And like everything that is wrong with his world, the authorities chose to listen to the little rich white girl and threw me into jail without concrete evidence.

Two people in the back were whispering awfully loud that the teacher in the room asked them, if they wanted to share their conversation with the class. Normally that would shut them up, but they got up. They said how they saw a office suitcase and a shotgun in the library when they came into school. Because mass shootings were a problem in our town the teacher let them go to the library to see if it was still there. If so they were to report to a officer as soon as possible. They probably were just finding an excuse to go out for a smoke, impressive. They walked out of the room closing the door behind them.

Just then I heard someone washing their hands in the bathroom that was located right next to our bathroom. The harsh blowing sound of the air hand dryer was heard shortly after. The walls were not particularly thick in this building, even foot steps could be heard from the class rooms next door.

The next thing I new, the door flew open, slamming into the grey wall. The door crashed into the wall with such big velocity that a loud bang drilled through our ears. Even Bob, who was asleep, woke up from his daily nap. The same Bob that slept through a whole 'Die Hard' movie that was playing on full volume.

A tall slim man in a suit was standing in the room waving around with a shotgun and a office suitcase in his other hand.

The whole class was terrified and the teacher was too shocked to react to anything. We jumped off our seats and went under our tables. The last thing I remember was shots being fired.

A/N: Hello! Hope you enjoyed this little story. Do you guys think I should make this into a book in the future? Maybe once I have time after graduation. Whoop Whoop. Vote and comment if you enjoyed it and tell me what kind of stories you like. xx