<U'll> BE the {rhyTHM} and I'll be the BEAT <nofo>
Apr 10, 2011 12:17:31 GMT -5
Post by shrimp on Apr 10, 2011 12:17:31 GMT -5
He had been at work. The familiar clangs of the factory had always been soothing for him. It showed stability, that things could remain the same - the same noises at the same intervals, the same expression on one's face as they concentrated on drilling these circuit boards together; things like that gave the boy comfort. Perhaps someday he would feel trapped in this life: he was an overworked, in the closet teenager who repeatedly got hit by his parents. But there were bright spots that kept him going as well, like Lyla for instance. Even though she was bound to get him in trouble someday, she was still his best friend. And Aaron, for example. He still got chills when he spotted him amongst the crowd (not like he'd go on a date with him again; he had messed that up royally).
So for now, he would have been perfectly content to spend the rest of his life in this path - headed towards working in the factory for a long time, getting his own place, finding the right... Well that part didn't necessarily matter; if he found love, so be it. But he'd be content to live alone. There'd be no fighting, no sadness - just him. But clearly, that wouldn't be able to happen for fate must have thought that the shy boy needed some more... "action" in his life. For that day, instead of being able to go home, get yelled at, quietly finish his work, something else happened. Of course, nobody had known what was to occur - obviously, not even the boy knew.
He wouldn't be able to tell his friends goodbye. Perhaps Lyla would wonder what had happened to him, or maybe his parents would think that he had deserted them, never to return. For when the Peacekeepers broke in, it was so fast and so abrupt that he didn't even have time to finish welding the circuit board. They just walked up, hit him multiple times with their batons, and dragged him off. Vaguely, he heard one of them say "Prewitt Pierce, you are under arrest for conspiring to rebel," but he could barely believe it. He was a kid who hadn't done anything wrong - only Lyla had done something illegal, and she had already been arrested for it. This made no sense, unless if they just wanted to terrorize him to terrorize Lyla or something. Either way, he'd probably just have to bear with it. You've been smacked around before - you can handle this, he told himself. But still, he was terrified.
And just like that, he became a criminal, tortured while he was in that godforsaken truck. Blindfolded so he couldn't attempt to escape (not like he'd do that anyways). He felt inferior, subordinate. Just like he always felt at home, only this time it was intensified. He didn't like it. He wanted to just get away, go home, go somewhere else besides that Detention Center. Of course, that was impossible, but the least he could do was hope. Perhaps somehow he'd get out early, maybe even for "good behavior". The Peacekeeper in the truck seemed to sense his thoughts, for he was kicked, pulled, and led out of the truck. Blinding sunlight hit his face, and he could barely see as he was led into the cold, depressing building. He shivered slightly, earning a threatening hiss by one of the guards.
And just like that, he was in a small cell. Clearly, he was to have a cellmate (or perhaps they were already there - he still was having trouble adjusting his vision). Two metal shelves would probably serve as beds, and there was a metal sink and what seemed to be a bowl. He shuddered in disgust as he realized that he'd probably have to go to the bathroom in that. The bars were closed, locked as well, and then he was left to his devices. Walking over to one of the beds, he sat down, covering his face with his hands. Shallow breathing was all he could hear for a few minutes, before the cell doors were opened again. He didn't bother to look up - he'd see who the cellmate was sooner or later anyways, and honestly he really didn't care.