Juvenile Delinquents

Freedom?

A month had passed and I was counting down each day. November was colder than the previous month. Slowly brushing into December. The cells got colder. I got colder. My short sleeved crop top was no protection but my legs were warm. That was the only benefit. I could move my legs but each day was torture and I would end up in my cell with someone carrying me over their shoulder. The Razor Gang found pleasure in torturing us. Me especially. Many tactics and styles. Jackson would stand by, watching in amusement as they would make me bleed in different ways.

     I became weaker by the second. I hadn't eaten in a month. Only handed a mineral pill and a glass of water to keep me alive. I lost all hope in my friends and family trying to find us. My plan hadn't worked and I blamed myself for it. I thought I would have been there for five days, not a month. The girls were supposed to leave me alone at the party. Allow Jackson and Damiano to find me. They were later supposed to follow me to where I was and later call my father for back up to get me out of there. A month later and no one came to get me.

     All hope and courage left my body. I stopped fighting back. I accepted the whipping and the cutting and the beating. I accepted them. I allowed Jackson to fill my head with hopeless thoughts of Tyson, my friends and my family. I allowed him to mentally torture me. I allowed him to completely destroy me. Jackson tortured me in every way possible. Mentally, physically and emotionally. My muscles ached. I was constantly drugged. My body couldn't feel a thing, it practically felt numb. He played with my mind when it came to my loved ones. Saying he would kill them slowly in front of me. Cause me the same pain he did. My emotions were against me. Killed that spark I held inside of me. He killed it a month ago. I stopped crying, stop talking back and Jackson enjoyed every minute of it.

     I knew I would die by December. Christmas to be exact. He wanted it to be a gift to everyone from him. My dead body on my parents doorstep. Pictures sent to my friends. He was wicked. Always found new ways of hurting me. It caused me to stop speaking. I hadn't said a word in a month. Neither to Jackson or the group. They would try to make me speak, call me and beg but I would listen in. I would lean against the door as they laughed about different moments that occurred in school and chuckled at the endless banters between Gunner and Hutson. They were able to laugh and smile, they were strong. I wouldn't do it anymore. Couldn't find it in myself.

     They would leave once a day, leaving me to doodle peacefully on the brick wall. Jackson held special games for them but he would save me for later. Late at night, he would drag me to the arena and took my offer to do anything he wanted to me. He went easier on the other and forces all his anger on me. He would strap me to a metal table, use the extra time to zap me. Electric table. But that was better than being raped, again.

     That was my first day there. Jackson took full control. Entered my cell, handed me the deadliest look ever. I was helpless. No matter how loud I scream or how many times I got slapped across the face for opening my mouth. I was dead the second Jackson touched me. My spark completely gone after that night. Rebecca crying was heard all night. Gunner was trying to calm her but even he was mad. They all were. They heard what had happened to me and knew that very next morning that I lost a piece of myself to Jackson. It wasn't my virginity; I had lost that to Valentino years ago. But I lost a piece of my sanity.

     A loud bang came from the door. "Let's go, Roma." The man on the other side called. Nodding my head, I dragged my bruised body off the mattress. I hadn't showered for a month. Halloween costume was intact as my makeup was permanently on my face.

     With my door pulled open, Rebecca handed me a small smile as she linked our arms and marched towards the arena. The boys were pulled out of their cells. It was amusing but I never smiled. I always kept a straight face. I wanted Jackson away from my emotions. I couldn't let him destroy any other. Rebecca giggled slightly. It was amazing to see someone find the good in the bad. We followed the same routine every day. Jackson stood beside my station with a new whip. Metal. Indicating that my pain would be ten times worse than the day before.