Imprisoned (4 page)

“Have a seat. Mr. Madsen will be with you shortly.”

I sat on one of the chairs and saw a stack of magazines piled on the table next to me. I dug through them, but nothing looked interesting. They were either exercise magazines or magazines about eating healthy. Instead, I leaned my head back and stared at the ceiling, pretending the Enforcer wasn’t sitting five feet away from me.

“You must be Morgan.”

Jerking my head up, I saw a thin man with a balding head approaching. He didn’t look like he was much taller than me.

“I’m Mr. Madsen.” He stopped next to my chair. “Welcome to Camp Willowmoss.”

Camp Willowmoss.
He said it like it was a summer camp of some kind. Like people came here by choice.

“Let’s go talk in my office.” Then he turned and walked down the hallway.

I followed him into his office and sat in the chair he offered me.

He pulled up a chair across from mine so that our knees were only about a foot apart. “How are things going for you, Morgan? Are you getting settled in okay?”

His niceness sort of creeped me out. Did he realize that his employers had jammed a tracking chip in my arm? Was he okay with that? I decided to play along. “I’m doing okay.”

“Good, good. I’m glad to hear that.” He paused, staring at me a moment. “Well, now that you’re here at Camp Willowmoss, it’s my responsibility to go over the rules with you and to discuss your personal goals.”

“When do you think I’ll be able to see my mom?” I blurted out. I didn’t care about rules or my “personal goals”. I just wanted to get out of here and be with my family again. Preferably my family in the world I had come from. But seeing the mom in this world would be a good start.

“Well, seeing your family is a privilege. One that you can earn.”

“What?” Sharp disappointment stabbed me.

“Now, let’s talk about your personal goals. What would you like to accomplish while you’re here, Morgan?” He smiled in a fake sort of way.

I’d like to wipe that grin off your face for starters, I thought. And then get as far away from this place as I can. Instead, I plastered a fake smile of my own onto my mouth. At least as best as I could with a fat lip. “I’d like to develop healthier eating habits and get into a better workout routine so that I can reach my goal weight and then maintain it. You know, a healthier me is a healthier world.”

His creepy fake smile got bigger. “Very good, Morgan.”

He grabbed a notepad and pen off of his desk and wrote something down. Presumably my lofty goals, although I couldn’t tell for sure as he had crossed his legs and set the notepad on his knee, which tilted the notepad out of my view.

“What do you think you should do today to help you reach those goals?” He poised the pen over the notepad, awaiting my response.

“I had a healthy breakfast already, so I guess I need to spend some time working out.” I smiled a less phony smile, pleased with myself for coming up with answers I was sure he wanted to hear.

“That’s right.” He wrote something down. “How much time do you plan to spend on exercising each day?”

“I don’t know. I guess about an hour?”

He nodded. “Close. We require two hours per day.”

Two hours?
Was he serious? I could see by his face that he was. “How much weight am I supposed to lose, anyway?”

“How much weight do you think you should lose, Morgan?”

I didn’t like the way he kept saying my name—like he actually knew me. Pushing aside the irritation, I thought about how much weight Dr. Bradley had said I needed to lose. Her number seemed high to me so I made up my own. “I guess about ten pounds?”

His eyebrows went up, but he didn’t say anything, so I figured he knew what Dr. Bradley had said.

“Twenty pounds?” I corrected.

A smile slowly curved the corners of his mouth. “Yes, at least.”

At least?
I’d never been one to diet and exercise. This was going to be hard. Unless I could escape sooner rather than later.

He sat silently, apparently waiting for me to say something.

“Okay, right,” I said. “Twenty pounds.”

He nodded and wrote on his notepad, then looked back at me. “Now, let’s discuss the rules.”

Here we go, I thought.

He grabbed a sheet of paper from the top of his desk. “I’ll give this to you when you leave so you can remember them, but let’s go over the rules together.”

“Okay.” How bad could they be?

“First, you’re allowed to write letters to your family, but there are no phone calls and no visitors.”

“But you said I could earn a visit.”

“We’ll get to that. Second, you are required to keep a journal of all the food you eat. It will be checked daily against the database the cafeteria keeps. If a friend gives you any of her food, be sure to write it down. You can be sure the friend will make a note of it in her journal, as should you if you give any food away.”

I’m going to starve in here, I thought, feeling suddenly faint.

“You’ll turn in the food journal at breakfast each morning. You may have noticed the others doing that this morning.”

I nodded.

“When you get back to your room you’ll find a stack of journal pages that you can fill out each day.” He paused. “Third, you must exercise the specified number of hours assigned to you. Your chip monitors your location as well as your heart rate, so it is evident if you’re exercising or not.”

This really is hell. Now I understood why Alyx was so upset at the idea of me doing something that would mess up when she could leave. “How many hours am I supposed to exercise each day?”

“Two hours, just like we talked about. But you can break it up over two sessions or do it all in one. We leave that up to you.”

Oh how very thoughtful, I wanted to say, but bit my inner lip so I could keep up my show of pretended acquiescence.

He looked back at the paper. “Next, you must weigh yourself once each day.” He looked at me. “We leave it up to you when you want to do your weigh-in. Most people like to do it first thing in the morning. You may have noticed the scale in the bathroom.”

Actually, I hadn’t, but whatever.

“You will be assigned a job and you must spend six hours per day working. This is to help defray the cost of housing you.”

Why don’t you just let me leave, I wanted to say. That would save you even more money. “What’s my job going to be?” I asked instead.

“For now, you’ll be assigned cleaning duties. Once you’ve proven yourself there, you’ll be able to apply for one of the more desirable jobs.”

Well, that was just perfect. Not only would I be starving and forced to exercise, I’d also have to clean up after everyone. Nice.

“Since you’re a minor, you’re required to attend two hours of classes each day as well as get all of your class assignments done.”

On top of everything else I had to go to
school
? “How am I supposed to fit everything in?”

He looked up in surprise. “I’m sure you’ll manage.”

My façade of cooperation was beginning to slip. “Anything else?”

He smiled his creepy fake smile. “We’re nearly done.” He looked back at the paper in his hands. “Absolutely no romantic relationships allowed.”

Like I’d have time for that, I thought, frowning.

He lifted his gaze from the paper and looked at me, his fake smile gone. “Since you’ve also been charged with a crime, you’re required to attend nightly group counseling sessions so that you can be re-educated.”

Re-educated? What did that even mean?

“And finally, Morgan, your whereabouts will be monitored at all times, so make sure to be where you’re supposed to be.”

He held out the paper and I reluctantly took it. Glancing at the long list of rules, I scowled, then folded up the sheet of paper and put it in my pocket. “You said we’d talk about how I could get to see my family?” I didn’t have to fake the pitiful expression on my face; I really did feel desperate to see my mom.

He smiled slightly. “Yes. Well. After two weeks, if you’ve followed all the rules, we’ll make an appointment for you to see your family.”

“Two weeks?” I hadn’t meant that to sound like I was whining, but I knew that’s how it came out. “I mean, is there any way I can arrange to see them sooner? Can I just see my mom?”

His lips pressed together and he shook his head. “That is the rule. Do you think you’ll be able to earn the privilege of seeing your family?”

To think I’d been so anxious to run away from them that I’d ended up here. Now I was desperate to see them. How was that for irony? I sighed and nodded. “Yes.”

“Good.” He set his notepad and pen on his desk, then turned back to me. “Now, give me a minute to check on some things and then someone will come and get you and help you get started on your job.”

He went around to the front of his desk and sat in front of his computer. I couldn’t see what he was doing, so I sat in my chair and felt sorry for myself. After several minutes of typing and clicking, he turned his attention back to me.

“I’m printing out your schedule so that you’ll know where to be at what time.”

The printer spit out a sheet of paper and he handed it to me, then sat in the chair near me. I read over the schedule I was expected to follow.

DAILY SCHEDULE FOR MORGAN CAMPBELL

7:00 – 7:30 Breakfast

7:30 – 11:00 Work assignment

11:00 – 12:00 Exercise or work on homework

12:00 – 12:30 Lunch

12:30 – 3:00 Work assignment

3:00 – 5:00 Classes

5:00 – 5:30 Dinner

5:30 – 8:00 Exercise or work on homework

8:00 – 9:00 Meet with counseling group

9:00 – 10:00 Exercise or work on homework

10:00 Lights out

The first thing I thought as I finished reading my schedule was that my best chance to escape would be during my work assignment hours or when I was supposed to be working on homework. Hopefully during my work assignment I would have minimal supervision.

“Your mother dropped off some clothes for you while you were at breakfast.”

I gasped. “She was here?”

“Yes. We told her to come between seven and seven thirty this morning, which she did.”

They did that on purpose. Had her come when I was least expecting it so that I would have no chance of seeing her. Fury blossomed within me as I thought about their stupid rules and my stupid schedule and the stupid reason why I was even here. Angry words pushed against my lips, but I knew this was not the time to speak them. I pinched my leg as a distraction to force myself to calm down. Arranging a pleasant smile on my face, I said, “Well, it will be nice to have some of my own clothes to wear.” I amazed myself with how civil I sounded. I carefully folded my schedule and put it in my pocket with the list of rules.

“Yes, I’m sure it will.” Mr. Madsen stood. “I’ll walk you to the waiting area, where someone will come and get you.”

I followed him out of his office, then down the hall to the waiting area where the Enforcer was working behind the desk.

“Have a seat, Morgan,” Mr. Madsen said.

Though I was weary of being told what to do, I sat.

“We’ll meet again in a week to discuss your progress.”

I can hardly wait, I thought, but didn’t say anything.

“If you have any problems or questions, tell your work supervisor.”

I had no idea who that was, but knew I would find out soon enough. I nodded and he turned away and went back towards his office. While I waited for someone to come and get me, I took the rules and my schedule out of my pocket and read them again. Though I planned on getting out of here as soon as I figured out a way, I knew it would be foolish for me to break the rules. In fact, I hoped that if I was a model whatever it was we were called here—Guest? Prisoner? Inmate?  Camper?—if I followed the rules to the letter, then it seemed to me that my chances of escaping would be better.

The door to the waiting area opened and Kiera walked in. Seeing her familiar spiky magenta hair and friendly face made me feel better. I wondered how long it would take to get a job like hers. One where I could go all over the place. By myself. Probably a lot longer than I planned on being around.

“Hi, Morgan.”

“Hey.” I tucked the papers back in my pocket and stood.

“Ready to get started on your work assignment?”

I dreaded this job. Six hours a day cleaning. It was hard enough for me to spend an hour every couple of weeks cleaning my bedroom, so this was going to be pure torture. “Ready as I’ll ever be, I guess.”

“Great. Come with me.”

Chapter Five

We took the elevator to the sixth floor. My floor.

“At first your cleaning assignment will be on your own floor,” Kiera said as she led me down the hall. “In a week or so, if your supervisor feels you’re ready, you’ll be assigned to clean on other floors.”

“Who is my supervisor, anyway?”

“We’re on our way to meet him now.”

No one seemed to be around. “Is everyone else doing their work assignments right now, too?”

“Not everyone. The assignments are spread throughout the day and evening so that all the jobs are covered. Some people might be in class right now. Others might be working out. It just depends on their assigned schedule.”

We passed the door to my room and I glanced at it, wondering what items Mom had brought. Kiera led me past my bathroom and at the end of the hall we turned left down another hall. As we walked past all the doors in this hallway, I realized there were a lot more people on this floor than I’d thought.

Kiera stopped in front of an open door which led to a windowless room a little smaller than the room I shared with Alyx. Tucked in a corner was a small desk. One of the walls was taken up by shelves filled with toilet paper, soap, toothpaste and other toiletries. Another wall had shelves filled with neatly folded white towels. A dark-haired man sat at the desk, hunched over a tablet computer, tapping on the screen.

“Kyle, I’ve got a new worker for you.”

Kyle looked up from his tablet. “Hey, Kiera.” Then he looked me over. I regretted that I didn’t look better, because he was really cute. I figured he was in his late-twenties, which I knew was a little old for me, but did I mention he was really cute? Suddenly I was looking forward to my work assignment.