Detention

Detention... where society sends, not the kids it does not know how to deal with, but the kids they don't want to deal with.  I have been coming here since I was little. Twelve really; that seems like a lifetime ago.  I feel as if I have grown up here and in a way, I suppose I have.  This is my family.  One or two murderers, a couple dealers, sometimes these two are interchangeable.  There are more than a few thieves and some that I don’t think I really want to know the details of...   We almost all use.

There is no emotion here.  We are just going through the motions.  That is not exactly true though... We feel hate here; lots of it.  It feels like that is all we know how to do here.  It keeps us going.  It also keeps us coming.  And it is exhausting.  But we are learning; to feel other things.  Things that look a lot like hope, only it’s something darker.  And we are learning some of the tricks of each others trade.

I hate being here.  I've spent entirely too much time here.  I hate seeing people come and go. I hate knowing that several of these people will die shortly after leaving here. Seeing all that creativity go to waste. These people can draw, write, fix and create.  It just may be something darker than you are comfortable with.  I hate knowing that life goes on without me. Watching the seasons change beyond the glass…  I really hate it here.

Maybe if some one would just show some interest.  Real interest, try to see us for who we are, and could be.  Not what you want us to be.  Stop treating some of us as if we are part of a caste system.  Pay attention to us.  Don't evaluate us.  We are not sheep, we cannot nor will we, all follow meekly.  This country was founded on rebellion, or did you think none of us knew that.  Teach us.  Be patient.  We do still have dreams.  It just may take us longer to find them buried under all the other stuff.  Stuff that some of you piled on us.  Maybe you forgot that we are still children, or at least, trapped inside the bodies of children.  Some of us have not been children for years, others never got the chance.  

Doesn't anyone remember how to love?  I bet you never knew that we do.  And you were foremost in our minds, hurting us, through your indifference and distain.  We slowly gave up ever being worthy of your love, but we did not stop loving you.