been so afraid.
In one quick yank, my pants and underwear are at my knees, and two grey suits run in, grab my legs and hold them still as Keller unhooks his leg from around mine. Then my pants are pulled off by Red and the others.
“You gonna stop this, kid, and do it yourself? Or do we need to continue this fight?” he hisses in my ear.
“Screw you,” I cry, “you sick sons of bitches!”
Once I am pushed into the wall in front of me, the two guards take my arms from him and hold them up above my head. I feel my shirt lift, and my sports bra is pulled up, as well.
I try with everything I have to pull away. “No! No, no, no!” I scream, but my plea for help goes unnoticed as I am stripped bare in front of four complete strangers, one who is male.
“You got this?” Keller growls.
“Yep,” I hear one say.
I look to my left as he heads out the door.
“Miss Asher—”
“Leave me alone!”
“We would love to. Listen to me. This has to happen. There’s nothing we can do about it. We will make this as fast as we can, but the harder you fight, the less comfortable it’s going to be for all of us.”
“I’m the one being abused! I’m the only one uncomfortable! Call me a damn lawyer! This is—”
I feel my arms being yanked behind me again, and then I hear water running.
“Last chance to do this on your own, kid. For God’s sake, make the right choice, or we will be forced to wash and delouse you. Please do the right thing.” Whoever the woman instructing me is, she seems to have emotions, but right now, I couldn’t care less.
“Go to hell,” I snap at her.
I am pushed under the running water of an open shower while my arms are hooked up behind my back.
“Damn, kid,” Red snaps as she situates herself in front of me and holds up a container. “This lotion has to be put everywhere you have hair. Then it has to sit for ten minutes before it’s washed off. Is that something you want me to do?”
“Get away from—” I stop when she pulls on a pair of rubber gloves and begins to dump the bottle labeled ‘RID’ into her gloved hand.
Suddenly, I know there is no way in hell I am going to win. Three to one is not good odds.
“I’ll do it!” I say as the water turns off, and she steps toward me.
Once my hair and body hair are covered, I stand, shivering, still wet in the stall with three women—Red, a blonde woman, and an African-American woman.
The African-American woman is not wearing a uniform. She has dreadlocks; small, circular glasses; and she looks less angry than the other two, who are soaking wet.
After the ten minutes is up, the water begins again, and I am allowed to rinse. Then I am made to squat and cough, turn around, bend over, and spread my butt cheeks because they are looking for weapons or paraphernalia that are not allowed in the facility.
I am in hell, and there is no forgiveness for sins, whether they are yours or not. No one here believes me; no one at school believes me. However, I know my parents question what happened, and I know they will do whatever they can to get me out of here.
But will they be able to?
The woman with dreads hands me two towels. “Mrs. Redder and Ms. Timms are going to give you some clothes, then bring you to my office. I am Mrs. Keller, your YDC, or Youth Division Counselor. You and I are going to sit down and have a talk.”
I say nothing.
“Hadley, do you understand?”
I nod.
“Mrs. Redder, when you are done, we have two more for transport. Rodney is getting the information.” Then she leaves.
“Busy day today,” Red, or Mrs. Redder, says to Ms. Timms.
Ms. Timms walks to a closet and opens it with the keys hanging from the orange spiral wristlet. “You a medium or small?”
“Medium,” I answer quietly.
“Aw, now she speaks.” Red laughs.
“Well, I’m wrapped in a towel, freezing, and after being stripped down and forced into a shower, then being watched by three people, I want clothes.”
“Your
In one quick yank, my pants and underwear are at my knees, and two grey suits run in, grab my legs and hold them still as Keller unhooks his leg from around mine. Then my pants are pulled off by Red and the others.
“You gonna stop this, kid, and do it yourself? Or do we need to continue this fight?” he hisses in my ear.
“Screw you,” I cry, “you sick sons of bitches!”
Once I am pushed into the wall in front of me, the two guards take my arms from him and hold them up above my head. I feel my shirt lift, and my sports bra is pulled up, as well.
I try with everything I have to pull away. “No! No, no, no!” I scream, but my plea for help goes unnoticed as I am stripped bare in front of four complete strangers, one who is male.
“You got this?” Keller growls.
“Yep,” I hear one say.
I look to my left as he heads out the door.
“Miss Asher—”
“Leave me alone!”
“We would love to. Listen to me. This has to happen. There’s nothing we can do about it. We will make this as fast as we can, but the harder you fight, the less comfortable it’s going to be for all of us.”
“I’m the one being abused! I’m the only one uncomfortable! Call me a damn lawyer! This is—”
I feel my arms being yanked behind me again, and then I hear water running.
“Last chance to do this on your own, kid. For God’s sake, make the right choice, or we will be forced to wash and delouse you. Please do the right thing.” Whoever the woman instructing me is, she seems to have emotions, but right now, I couldn’t care less.
“Go to hell,” I snap at her.
I am pushed under the running water of an open shower while my arms are hooked up behind my back.
“Damn, kid,” Red snaps as she situates herself in front of me and holds up a container. “This lotion has to be put everywhere you have hair. Then it has to sit for ten minutes before it’s washed off. Is that something you want me to do?”
“Get away from—” I stop when she pulls on a pair of rubber gloves and begins to dump the bottle labeled ‘RID’ into her gloved hand.
Suddenly, I know there is no way in hell I am going to win. Three to one is not good odds.
“I’ll do it!” I say as the water turns off, and she steps toward me.
Once my hair and body hair are covered, I stand, shivering, still wet in the stall with three women—Red, a blonde woman, and an African-American woman.
The African-American woman is not wearing a uniform. She has dreadlocks; small, circular glasses; and she looks less angry than the other two, who are soaking wet.
After the ten minutes is up, the water begins again, and I am allowed to rinse. Then I am made to squat and cough, turn around, bend over, and spread my butt cheeks because they are looking for weapons or paraphernalia that are not allowed in the facility.
I am in hell, and there is no forgiveness for sins, whether they are yours or not. No one here believes me; no one at school believes me. However, I know my parents question what happened, and I know they will do whatever they can to get me out of here.
But will they be able to?
The woman with dreads hands me two towels. “Mrs. Redder and Ms. Timms are going to give you some clothes, then bring you to my office. I am Mrs. Keller, your YDC, or Youth Division Counselor. You and I are going to sit down and have a talk.”
I say nothing.
“Hadley, do you understand?”
I nod.
“Mrs. Redder, when you are done, we have two more for transport. Rodney is getting the information.” Then she leaves.
“Busy day today,” Red, or Mrs. Redder, says to Ms. Timms.
Ms. Timms walks to a closet and opens it with the keys hanging from the orange spiral wristlet. “You a medium or small?”
“Medium,” I answer quietly.
“Aw, now she speaks.” Red laughs.
“Well, I’m wrapped in a towel, freezing, and after being stripped down and forced into a shower, then being watched by three people, I want clothes.”
“Your
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