We are Oprah's wet dream

(14 days till the next Greenie arrives).


"Where the fuck am I?" The early beginnings of dawn barely crept into the concrete structure I'd been enclosed in. My mouth tasted like acid, making me remember last nights events. Goosebumps riddled my skin, the back of my neck tingling.


My limbs felt stiff, it made sense though, I had fallen asleep on a janky old chair. It had one of the legs slightly shorter than the rest so it would do that annoying little leaning thing. The cement on the floor was poorly laid. Cracks caused weeds and grass to unearth themselves, jutting out of the ground. There was however a little window marred with metal bars. Realization flashed in my mind. I was in the slammer.


I could see sandy hair through the opening. Unfortunately I was too short to get a good view outside. My gaze fell down onto the chair. It could work...


I pushed the heavy chair towards the door. Climbing on the chair, positioning myself on my knees, I peaked out into the world. The back of the boy's head belonged to someone very familiar. Dave. Please. It was almost like the universe was trying to make this too easy.


"Hey." I said sing song like, making sure my breath tickled the back of his neck. It did. His skin tightened but he cleared his throat remaining straight forward. I never noticed till now he had a few of those little moles on his back.


"Hello y/n." He forced out.


"Hi Dave." I cooed, squeezing a hand out the window. My fingertips grazed the nape of his neck. At first he flinched but then sank into my touch. "So, what's going on?"


"Well I can't really tell you-" He cut himself off as I dragged my fingernail lightly across the middle of his neck.


"What's going on Dave?" I pressed, continuing my barely noticeable hand motion.


"Everyone's about to have a meeting to decide your fate." He spluttered.


"Really? What else?" I demanded grabbing a handful of his hair, yanking it backwards slightly.


"And well-" His breathing started to hitch as I wrapped my hand around his throat. "Newt thought you'd have a better trial if the whole glade voted so he's planning on having everyone go to the homestead."


"Anything else?" I drawled.


"Not that can think of." His chest was rising and falling rapidly.


"Good boy." I smirked.


"Hey!" Someone shouted. Fuck. I shouldn't have been stupid enough to think they'd leave simple Dave alone with me. Too easy y/n.


I dropped my hands away from him, slipping them back through the bars. Paul stampeded over, yanking Dave from my grasp. He slammed the boy against the concrete structure.


"What the shuck were you thinking you dumb Shank!" Even I could feel the spray of spit Paul seemed to be emitting as he spoke. "You wanna get stabbed like Victor from this crazy bitch! Huh?!"


"N-no!" Dave cried out. As pathetic as Dave was I couldn't keep myself from feeling sorry for him.


"Good." Paul spat. He whipped his head over to me, chin jutting out. "Stay away from my friends Slut!" He sneered, starting to pull Dave away.


"Gladly you fucking Vagine!" I yelled, clutching on to the bars. "Oh and Paul, your hair still sucks!" My sharp inhales burned my lungs as I seethed. Sliding down onto the floor I buried my head in my hands.


Sniffling to myself I finally cracked, letting tears spill out. Their were so many things that happened I didn't know how I felt. I wonder if it was possible to feel every emotion at once. My face felt grubby, I couldn't help but feeling dirty and grimy from last night. My entire body and muscles ached for a shower.


At least my face was getting clean. The warm tears painting themselves across my skin. I rubbed my eyes to stifle the waterworks.


"Fuck. Stop being such a pussy y/n." I fumed.
Even though the words were from me, they still made my head ache.


"Y/n?" A small voice was muffled from the thick door. "Are you okay y/n?"


"Oh yeah." My voice was sore from sarcasm. "I'm over the fuckin' moon." There was silence. I sighed, leaning against the rusty metal door. "Sorry Chuck, that was kinda bitchy."


"It's okay." He said. "I came to see you before the trial started." There was an evident edge of worry on Chuck's tone.


"Thanks." I replied. "Are you okay? You seem scared."


"I just don't want them to do to you what they did to Nick." He mumbled.


"What did they do to Nick?" It was silent for almost a full minute before Chuck responded.


"They banished him. Gave him to the grievers. Let him die." Icy fear bloomed across my chest. Surely none of the boys wanted me dead. Right? I didn't do anything wrong...or did I? I pushed the thought away.


"They won't do that Chuck. I'm not leaving you. Not now, not ever. You got that?" Chuck changed the topic to something else.


"Y/n I think I'm messed up or something."


"What?" My heart felt like someone was squeezing it in it's fist. "Why?"


"You have some memories right?" It was hard to know where he was going with this.


"Yeah." I said hesitantly. "It's useless stuff though, really random obscure shit. Nothing major." I could almost hear the faint sound of Chuck's breathing.


"Well I don't have that. I don't have anything. Just my name." He took a deep breath in before exhaling. "It's just so weird to to feel sad and homesick but have no idea what it is that you wanna go back to, ya know?


"Yeah." I breathed. "I never really thought about home till now. If I was home my parents would probably hate me." I laughed. "I'd be thrown in juvie for stabbing a kid, make their ears bleed with rock n roll and angry girl music. I'd be a real golden child." Chuck joined in on my laughs. I turned the conversation to something sweet. "I bet your parents would love you though. A whole lot."


"You think so?"


"Of course." It was a while before he spoke again.


"All I know is I don't wanna be here. I wanna go back to my family. Whatever's there, wherever I was taken from. I wanna remember." I didn't know what to say to him so I just let him continue talking. Chuck's voice wavered around, he must've been crying on the other side of the wall. "Y/n can I tell you something?"


"Yeah." I said softly. What he was going to say?


"I used to cry. Every night." Chuck sniffled. My heart felt like it was ripped out of my chest, with tendons and all. My own tears threatening to spill out. "Like a baby. Almost till the day you got here. Then I just got used to it, I guess. This became home, even though we spend every day hoping to get out."


"Getting out?" I blurted without thinking. "I never thought of that. I mean I guess we probably can't stay here forever right?"


"Yeah we probably can't." Chuck gave a sarcastic laugh.


"You know what Chuck." I spoke feverishly, all the words and ideas coming to me at once. "From now on I'm gonna be good. I'll try to be, for you. Cuz I'm gonna pull my best prank yet." A smile crept onto my face. "We're gonna be laughing at those stupid creators faces you and me. I'm gonna get us outta here and I think the people who took us probably did it illegally right?"


"Well they might've, yeah."


"Well then that's awesome! They totally just fucked themselves over!" My hand motions were becoming ragged and dramatic even though no one could see me. "Cuz we're gonna escape and turn those sick pricks in and then we'll be like National hero's."


"You think so?!"


"Yeah! And then everyone one will probably give us pity money for being kidnapped. I could buy all the ice cream I could ever want. We're basically Oprah's wet dream too man. She'd totally want to interview us and-" I paused, noticing the happy tears that had fallen onto my face. "And we'll be happy. Like Brady bunch, wonder bread, suburbs, American family happy." I choked the last part out smiling.


"Y/n?"


"Yeah?"


"I really wanna hug you right now dude."


"Yeah." My face hurt from beaming. "I really wanna hug you right now too."

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