School

The man in front of me is torturing me, making time go by slower then it has before. His voice is driving me insane; an emotionless person reins terror upon me with every word. He snaps at me to stop as my foot taps the ground of the linoleum floor beneath. My cell a room with poster covered walls. Desks full of others all of us pretending to be the perfect inmates the guard knows we aren’t. We think we have him in control but he’s a veteran of the force and he knows we are all fakes none of us are angels. We are devils that torture him as he and the others torture us for this twelve-year sentence.