The Program Chapter 1: Moving In (Written by Marysa Writes)

Alex I text Ellen to meet me at the park in an hour. I somehow convinced my mother to let me drive to the airport alone since her boyfriend works at the giftshop, and I could use the company. Mom’s boyfriend believes public transportation is better, less sinful, or some barmy idea like that. The man drinks like a fish, like he knows the first thing about being a good little Christian. If you ask me, religion is a fanciful idea created for the unintelligent who can’t handle the idea that we’re all going to cease to exist someday. Maybe that’s why people don’t ask me. I’m sitting on the swings when I see Ellen making her towards me, hips swaying in a skirt much too short for the temperature outside. She walks like a model, each step carefully practiced in heels that would make a hooker blush. Ellen’s always been fun, though I fear she might have had other emotions reserved for this ‘friendship.’ “Hi!!” Her squeaky voice pierces the otherwise silent afternoon. I stand from my spot on the swing and fill her in on the latest news. For a moment, I think she’s going to cry, but instead she stands straighter and smiles. “Just don’t forget about me, 'kay?” She pokes my arm playfully. She doesn’t seem too surprised when I don’t respond to her comment. We make our way to my car in silence and the ride to the airport consists of mindless, one-sided conversation from Ellen and trashy radio music. As I exit the vehicle, I realize surrounding myself with people who don’t use the word ‘like’ six times in a sentence might not be so insatiable after all. I grab my bag from the trunk and toss her my keys, which she misses by a mile, “Take my car back for me.” Ellen smiles her middle-school pageant smile; forced, fake and hiding a wall of irritation, “Of course!” A tidal wave of relief washes over me when the garbled voice over the intercom announces in a just barely audible mumble; “Now boarding, Gate 12, Denver, Colorado, United States.” ………………………………………………………………………………………………………………. Oli When we left the school, I learned my father had already decided I had left, even if I was still residing at home for that week. When he dropped me off at the airport, I wasn’t too upset with his cold-shouldered goodbye. It was almost expected. He did, however, offer me a parting sentence before I made my way to the terminal, “Don’t screw this up.” He was a master of making simple sentences carry heavy loads. It was a smooth flight, little turbulence, and no screaming toddlers. For that much, I was thankful. My greeter is a stocky woman with gazelle legs, a strange mix for a female. She resembles an ex soldier with soft features in her face, a striking contrast to the rest of her. My guess is she played basketball in high school. “I’m Ms. Fawn. Oli, I presume?” I’m sure my expression projects nothing short of distrust and bewilderment, “Uh..yea. My name’s on the sign.” I point to the ripped cardboard with “Oli Davis” written in slanted lettering. I follow her hesitantly, already put off by her appearance and, you know, the fact that I’m about to enter a car with a complete stranger. To look at the positives, the car ride is full of mountainous scenery. A nice change from the flatness Florida provided. No oceans around here. Ms. Fawn is eerily quiet the entire drive through the mountains, eventually pulling up to a massive two story building made seemingly entirely of brick. Surrounding the school was a huge metal gate that stands about twice my measly five foot stature. I’m attempting to yank my suitcase out of the back seat when Ms. Fawn interjects. “I’m sorry to inform you, but no personal belongings besides clothes are allowed within the premises.” “Excuse me?” Every nerve in my body is suddenly burning from the inside out, and the urge to run becomes overwhelming. “You can’t...I wasn’t told...What?” Ms. Fawn seems taken aback by my ignorance. “I apologize on behalf of your former school that you weren’t informed, but I’d like you to empty your pockets and leave your suitcase with me so that I can bring it in to be sorted. You’ll receive your clothing and anything else approved by the school after dinnertime.” Being in a foreign state in the middle of nowhere, I have no choice but to surrender my phone and enter the building without my things. Finally inside, I’m surprised to see there’s no one here to meet me or show me where to go. Instead, a pair of glass doors in the otherwise empty room, open in invitation. Above the doors a sign reads, “Principle Hayes.” When I enter the new room, with high ceilings, the man who looks like a football coach is already talking to another, strangely muscular, student with jet black hair. “Uhm, hi.” They both turn to look in my direction. “I’m not really sure…” Looking away from the boy’s ocean-blue eyes, I clear my throat, directing my attention towards Principle should-be Coach, “I’m not really sure if this is where I’m supposed to go.” As if there was another door for me to walk through. “Oli, sit, please. Alex and I were just having a small chat while awaiting your arrival. I’ve already explained the personal belongings issue. We will be sending your electronic devices, and any other unfit belongings back to your parents. You will also have a school issued laptop, free of charge. Any questions regarding this?” When neither of us responds he continues, “The rules here are pretty simple; No fighting, No missing class without a valid excuse and the most important, no leaving campus. Questions?” Alex stands and I shrink back into myself at his height, blurting out, “How tall are you?” He looks me up and down, his expression unreadable as I stand and a few steps towards the doors. “About six-two.” Principle Hayes smiles and runs a hand over his buzzed head. “Glad to see you two getting along, let me show you to your room.” Alex’s voice comes quickly, “You mean rooms?” Principle Hayes smile fades a little at the bluntness in his tone. “No, you two will be sharing room twelve. The only one available. In this program a male and a female always share.” Alex’s scowl represents mutual disdain, but doesn’t push the subject. Hayes leads us through an identical set of sliding glass doors and down a long hallway lined with classrooms. We make our way out another set of doors and across the main campus, which consisted of nothing more than a flat expanse of grass with a single birch wood tree in the center. The school wraps around the courtyard in a square, the only sidewalks line the hallways where a set of doors sits in each corner. We enter a door perfectly parallel to the one we recently emerged, and turn right down a hallway not visible from the courtyard. Hayes tells us our room is the last on the left and I swear I hear him whisper “Welcome home” as he exits this hall. I look at Alex, but he cuts me off before I have a chance to speak, “Don’t talk to me.”