Neither of the doors is locked. I run into the room with the boys just as the guard leans over the restrained boy and tases him.
“Stop!” I shout over his screams, still cuffed, still naked. “You’re killing him! Stop, stop!”
The boys move out of the way as I pushed through them, scrambling to do something. I grab the man’s arm and try to pull him off, he turns the taser on me.
The electric pain crushes all the air out of my lungs. I crumple over the boy, my muscles seizing with more pain. It feels like it’ll go on forever.
But then the door swings open and another man enters. I can’t see, my vision blurry. But his footsteps are heavy. He walks a certain way. It’s odd. Uneven.
The room falls silent.
I’m on the floor, my shoulder, trapped underneath me. I can barely focus my eyes to see the man when he crouches in front of me.
“You can call me Mr. Jay,” he says. “What is rule number one?”
I can’t answer. My teeth are locked together.
He sniffs, as if he’s not surprised but I don’t know the answer.
“You cannot look at another student,” he tells me. That must’ve been one of the rules on the wall. “What did you do?”
I wrench my teeth apart.
“I don’t know,” I say. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. Let me go home.”
“There is no going home.”
“But my parents?—”
“Your parents know. They want this for you.”
“They don’t,” I sob.
He shifts on his feet. “That’s two more punishments. There is to be no mention of your parents and no backtalk.”
He grabs my arm, fingers digging into the bruised spot where the woman held me, and pulls me to my feet. We’re back in the dark hall in seconds.
“Please,” I beg. “Just let me go.”
“You’re adding up your strikes.”
“What?” I ask confused as my feet barely manage to keep up with the pace he takes.
“Asking to leave is another strike.”
A sound startles me. I crane my neck to see what it is.
The boys are doing jumping jacks. More jumping jacks—with two spots missing.
“That’s another strike.”
“What? I—” I looked at them. All I did was look.
Another room. Another concrete floor. A hard wooden desk. My heart is in my mouth.
The door closes with a hollow sound, and then leather slips through belt loops. He’s taking off his belt.
I turn to face the man, my arms over my chest