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Don’t move. Stay perfectly still.

It’s late at night, but without a clock, I don’t know what time it is. My body is tired, my muscles ache in a way I didn’t think was possible. They make us do jumping jacks all day long until our legs can’t stand then the next day, still as can be. We’re not allowed to move.

I’ve been sitting at this narrow desk for so long. I run through the alphabet, and count to a hundred. I think of every song I know but I’m careful not to move my lips.

I try to think of something else to pass the time, but there’s nothing there in my head.

I go through the colors of the rainbow.

My heart pounds hard and fast. It won’t slow down no matter how long I sit here on this side of a one-sided mirror. On the other side— I refuse to think. I refuse to believe it’s real.

I just ignore it.

I count to ten again, then twenty.

The man keeps shouting at me. He’s been shouting for so long that I think his voice is starting to break down. His throat must be raw and hurting.

The quiet isn’t any better.

It just means I can hear the grunts from the other side of the window, and the sound of Mr. Jay’s boot coming down on the boy’s hand. The screams. Tears prick my eyes.

I try to ignore it. The door is locked. I can’t do anything. They want me to watch so I keep my head straight but I try not to see what’s right in front of me.

We shouldn’t have looked at each other. We shouldn’t have said hello.

We broke the rules for what?

For both of us to get beaten one at a time, in front of each other. My punishment was first. And my body is still shaking. My throat worse off from screaming.

And my hands, I look down at them black and blue. I shouldn’t have done anything.

I wonder if there’s anything left of the girl I once was.

My heart. That’s what’s left. It beats hard, like it’s trying to warn me but this is wrong. My heart still knows that this is sick and terrible and a good person would intervene.

I’m not a good person.

Maybe I never was.

I’m not going to get out of my chair. I’m not going to go to bang at the door and scream for help. I added the time to his beatings. It’s my fault. It’s all my fault.

He might break the boy into pieces.

Don’t move.

Don’t move a muscle.

I don’t even dare to close my eyes.

It’s twisted—all I can think is how I’m breaking the rules. I’m not supposed to look at any other student for any reason. But I have to look at the boy. They decided that I have to break the rules.

I hate them. I hate them all in a way I didn’t think was possible. I don’t understand how someone can cause so much pain and agony and then continue to live.

We have to get out of here. Before I turn to something else.

We have to listen to them, though.

We have to stay still and quiet and do as we’re told.