When the time came for me to leave the detention center it was harder than I had expected. I had grown a bond with these people and they had helped me so much to get to where I wanted to be and it saddened me to leave them behind.
At that age I still didn’t connect well so the fact that I had found a group of adults that I had an attachment to and had to leave made me sad. They spent my last day reminding my I could do anything I put my mind to and showered me with well wishes as I walked out the door for the last time.
I met with my mother at the front of the campus as she was bringing me things from home that were approved. She still wasn’t the happiest that this is where I was (not that I blamed her I understood) going to be but she gave me a hug and kiss and told me she loved me and would call soon.
Once through all the intake crap I was off to my cottage (that’s what the different building we were housed in were called). It had been made clear to me that this was my last chance and as I was the oldest girl on campus at the time I had to be on my best behavior.
I had no intentions on getting into trouble as I knew for a fact that my next step was seriously not where I wanted to end up. I met most of the girls and staff in my cottage and retreated to my assigned room. I wasn’t forced out the first day or two as I was new and they wanted to give me time to “adjust ” as they had put it.
I had spent some time in common areas listening and people watching and I quickly realized that not on;y was I the oldest girl here I was the only one who seemed to believe they belonged here. The air around me was filled with “it’s my mom and dad’s fault” I don’t belong here” and “I didn’t do anything wrong” and that was all I needed to here to know that I probably didn’t want to mingle much.
I spent like that first week stuck in my books. I had found my escape from the bullshit around me printed on the pages before me as I had many times before.
“Books are a uniquely portable magic.” – Stephen King
