It was late at night and the Youth Correctional Juvenile Detention centre was pretty quiet. It was raining slightly outside. A small plump looking boy was sitting on the porch, his hand out, feeling the raindrops. He was watching the sunrise. One of the security guards walked up to him.
“The dean would like to see you,” he said. The boy got up and followed the security guard. The dean’s office was located at the top floor of a three storey building. It was right in the centre and in between the dorms of those in the juvenile detention centre. Although the dean was rarely seen, most of the occupants feared him.
The security guard knocked on the door to the dean’s office before opening the door and giving the boy a little push inside. The boy, without being told, walked to the desk where the dean was sitting, and stood in front of it.
He straightened his body and saluted. The dean waved him to sit down. The dean then slid him some papers. On the top right hand side, was the number 016890.
“We have decided to let you take part in this programme.” The boy read the words ‘second chance’ and bit his lip.
“Everything has been sorted out and you will leave this place tomorrow.” The boy looked at the dean questionably, but held his tongue.
The dean understood what he was going to ask.
“This will be your last assignment.” He said affirmatively.
The boy’s eyes brightened. He took the papers, saluted one last time to the dean before heading off.
He smiled as he left the office. He was finally going to be free. He could now pursue what he always wanted to do.
The boy walked past the visitor room, a room where visitors of the occupants of the juvenile detention centre were received. He skipped along happily.
In the visitor room, an occupant was being visited. The occupant was a thin and skinny boy. He had tattoos all over his back that could be seen through his white see through shirt and three piercings in each of his ears. He had a cold face and didn’t smile.
In front of him was a neatly dressed prosecutor. He wore a tight suite and an expensive watch. He placed all the papers on the desk spread out neatly. He tapped the first paper. The boy leaned forward to read its contents. At the top right, was the number 379440. He smirked. He had anyway expected this result.
The prosecutor held out a pen and pointed at the document on the far right. The boy scanned it quickly before signing his name. The prosecutor then collected some papers and gave the remaining to the boy. The boy leaned back in his chair, expecting the prosecutor to leave. The prosecutor was about to leave when the boy called out to him once again.
“Can I keep your pen?” He asked bluntly.
The prosecutor fished the pen out of his pocket and then handed it to him. The prosecutor opened the door and a photographer came in, holding a camera. The boy sighed before standing next to the prosecutor for the photo. The prosecutor held the boy's hand in a handshake as they posed.
Within minutes it was completed and the prosecutor left as quietly as he came. The boy was then escorted out of the room by one of the guards. The pen that the prosecutor had given him was sent for inspection and would be handed to him by evening.
The boy walked back to his dorm silently. He pulled out the photograph he kept under his pillow. He smiled as he recalled all the memories associated with it. He was going to recreate either the same or newer memories again. Now, all he had to do was patiently wait.
He stared at the clock opposite his bunk bed. He watched as the second’ s hand ticked away. Eventually, he fell into a slumber, holding the photograph to his chest.
————————————————————————————————————---------------
Exactly two days ago:
All the kids at the Father John Juvenile Detention Centre were gathered in front of the old stage. The stage was made of wood and it had a layer of dust over it. The kids were seated on the dusty ground. They were unbothered by the dust since the whole juvenile detention centre was pretty run down. All the kids were wearing clothes that had holes in either their shirts or their pants.
On the stage, the dean and a middle-aged policeman were standing on the stage. The dean held a transparent box full of colourful spheres. A professional emcee was even invited. The adults looked to be the most invested in the event while most of the kids were uninterested and had started to doodle in the dust.
The middle-aged policeman smiled happily at the cameras. To the kids, this was just another show as well as background noise. The dean shook the transparent box and the middle-aged policeman reached into the box. He pulled out a colourful sphere and twisted it open. The emcee took the paper slip in it and read the number written on it enthusiastically.
“Number 345970!” The adults cheered, while the kids looked up in curiosity. A girl of small stature was pushed onto the stage. She had long straight hair and bangs that nearly covered her eyes. She stood on the stage nervously, her hands buried deep in her pockets.
The middle-aged man then put his hand in the transparent box again and pulled out another colourful ball. He twisted it open and the emcee took the slip of paper from it. He unfolded the paper slowly, pausing for effect. A boy in the front was praying so hard, it looked as though he was crushing his own hands.
“Number 369802!” The emcee exclaimed yet again. The boy who was praying stood up happily and rushed to the stage. He looked well-built. In fact, he looked like he could beat everyone to pulp. His expression was as though he had just won the lottery. The middle-aged man smiled at them and took a picture with both of them. He gave a look of intimidation upon seeing the boy before he left the stage. The moment he left, the adults all left to follow him. Upon seeing the adults leave, the kids left to resume their activities.
The kids whose two numbers were called out were then left standing in the empty hall on the stage. A person who looked like the secretary of the middle-aged man quickly handed them papers in their hands. He spoke hurriedly and quickly. The two were trying to catch every word he was saying.
With that, he left as quickly as he came. Both of them looked at each other confused. They didn’t really understand what he had just told them. Both of them watched him leave helplessly. If only he wasn’t in a hurry, then they wouldn’t have to stare at each other awkwardly.
Comments (0)
See all