Pheobe: Saying SorryMature

I walked over to Reagan and smiled. "I'm sorry. I know you wanted me to keep your power a secret. It was for a stupid reason anyway. Can we stop arguing? I think it's making all of the others tense." I didn't wait for his answer. I just walked over to the gate and sat down up against the wall. I closed my eyes, imagining I was in school right now.

It was pretty sad. Nearly every teen doesn't like school. They don't like having to wake up early,  or having to sit in a room where all the teacher did was tell you stuff that didn't matter because in the job you were going to have, you didn't need to know Pythagorean Theorem, or how to find the value of x. Along with the pointless information, you couldn't talk most of the time, and if you did something wrong you had to stay at school longer, so you could sit in a classroom full of troublemakers for thirty minutes, while the teacher put in grades or read.

I pictured school, not because I liked it, because I didn't, but because it was the only place that was normal for me. I would talk to my friends in the hallways and at lunch, would flirt with the boys, and mess with the teachers when they were in a good mood. At home I was always trying to control myself, trying not to use my powers, although I really wanted to. At school I didn't need to, I had everything I needed.

I guess I fell asleep because I woke up in my bed, or the bed in this cell. Nearly everyday when I woke up, I swore I was home, but I'd open up my eyes and see the grey walls, the bunk-beds, and the gate. The only thing different from where I was and jail, is that it was quiet. You could only hear the guards walking around, a soft thump distant from where we were. N0 one wanted to be by us.

The End

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