Disturbed Beauty by Ashley Beale

Author:Ashley Beale [Beale, Ashley]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Romance, Dark
Publisher: Ashley Beale
Published: 2015-02-09T05:00:00+00:00

Opal wakes me up with a tap on the shoulder and I realize that I'm lying in her bed. I sit up quickly and apologize for taking her space. She shakes her head at me and points to the curtain, where voices are softly echoing down the hall. I look over to see the other two girls in our room are gone.

"Do we need to go?" I ask.

Opal nods her hand and walks over to the curtain, pulling it aside. Feet are marching down the hall, all of them bare against the disgusting floor. I stand up and stretch, pulling and twisting at the cricks in my neck and back. Opal starts making hand gestures, like we need to hurry, so I follow after her. We walk with the others down the hallway.

The area where we eat reminds me of a forgotten prison. There are some tables, but hardly anyone sits at them. Most everyone grabs a plastic tray and sits on the floor somewhere. I follow Opal, who grabs a tray and walks to a far corner, away from nearly everyone else. I remain near her, all the while looking for Clarissa.

The food is unrecognizable. I wouldn't even go as far as calling it mystery meat, it's more like... a curdled brown mess. I use the plastic spoon we're given and scoop up our supper. It pretty much tastes like burnt lettuce, in which case, I can actually handle. It could be much worse than what it is. With our so called meat, we also get a half slice of bread with no butter or jam, and a plastic cup of water.

I don't understand how anyone in here has actually survived more than a week. It doesn't seem possible.

"Is this all we get served?" I ask Opal.

She looks down at the food with a curled lip. It's a depressing face, and I know the answer without her saying a word. I wonder how long she has been here, and what her story is. It's obvious no one else is as dumb as me, turning themselves in to save a friend. Lizzie reminded me of that, that we all have our own stories, our own pasts, our own struggles. I want to know their stories, every single one of them.

A body slides down the wall next to me. The girl is the youngest I've seen yet, maybe ten. I have to hold in the shock, because I want to cry. This girl should not be in here. None of us should be, but her especially. She is far too young!

"Hi," she says with a weak smile. I can see the need for excitement in her eyes. She is young enough she needs to be outside kicking around a soccer ball, or chasing boys, spreading her cooties.

I give her my strongest smile, not wanting her to see the fear I have for her in my eyes. She still looks somewhat healthy, so I'm hoping that means she hasn't been in here long.

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