Page 9 - Pieces of Victory - Add - FlipBuilder.pdf

“Do you want me to take you to “the Get Right Room?” Ms. Arizona says scorn- fully, spittle flying as it had from Brother QC.
I visualize an umbrella to protect me from the wet droplets of unidentified fluid getting on my skin or worse, in my mouth! The thought of it is just downright gross!
“Yes,” I reply without hesitation.
I couldn’t wait to get to the Get Right Room. I had somewhat of an inkling of what this tiny closet was because my friend, BreeAnna, was forced into confine- ment at Victory for doing drugs and hanging around a bad crowd. I thought what they did to her was horrible, and I saw how brainwashed she was after her time here. She truly believes that she deserved it all and that Victory was the best thing for her. She almost had me convinced.
I am crying hysterically, my high pitched sobs amplified and reflected off of the washroom walls. I transform into a nun by putting on my brand new conserva- tive garments. A potato sack with a sash around my waist would have been more risqué. The painful awareness of my loss of freedom and feelings of uncertainty overwhelm me, and I am overcome by trepidation. I will never see my childhood heart- throb again. My Drake, my love and my everything!
When Ms. Arizona and Josella, as if reading my mind, yell, “We told you if you keep it up, you will get sent to the Get Right Room!”
“What exactly is the the Get Right Room?”, my voice hiding my fear.
“You’ll see.” Josella chuckles with a smirk and a sadistic undertone.
In this moment I am willing to do anything to get away from these people so I can have some time to process what is happening.
So I shout, holding back my fear, “Go ahead and put me there! I want to go!”
I want to be in isolation as opposed to being scolded by these Nazis for voicing my justifiable rage. I want to get there immediately so I can think about what my parents did to me.
Ms. Arizona grabs my wrist until it hurts, pinching my pale flesh, and drags me to a secluded room in dorm three. I glance at my wrist; the skin is turning red.
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