After another week, we had everything planned out. As it turns out, Cassidy hadn’t betrayed us - Massingale, the crafty dean, had said so to see if I was lying or not.

As for the plan, we decided on trying to get ourselves transferred from this facility to another one, then hijack the vehicle in motion. This certainly had a lot of kinks to be worked out, but we did the best we could. Torrin managed to be hired again, under different credentials. This time, his job as a night janitor did not allow him to pass notes, since he came in at 1 am to clean. However, his line of work did allow him to possibly be our backup escape route, if any of us could manage to pilfer keys to the cells.

I made a bit more contact with Thalia, as much as could be with whatever she had going on. I tried not to judge her by it, hard enough as it was. I still wondered why she was in here; she was harmless. Weird, but definitely harmless.

One night after rec, but before lights out, she opened up to me. She told me about how she hated this place. How her mother put her in here four years ago - her own mother. She talked about how everyone treated her: “No one looks at me, talks to me… but I know they talk about me after I leave the room.”

I told her that I felt the same way, when in reality I didn’t. Tonight, her mind seemed to be in another place. She talked about school, and how she felt about it, when she seemed at least 5 years out of high school. I realized this, then connected the dots. Maybe, after high school, her mother put her in here because she couldn’t handle her anymore.

The thought made me sick to my stomach. A mother, putting her own daughter in a mental institution, right out of high school! Of course, I didn’t know all the facts, but still! I looked at Thalia again. Something about her made me think that she seemed familiar.

“What’s your last name?” I asked, trying to figure out where I knew her from.

“Massingale,” she told me, straight faced.

My brain literally exploded. Massingale? As in, Dean Massingale? The cruelest person I’d ever known? “Your mom is the dean?”

“The dean? No, she’s just a guard. She sure wanted to be dean. I’ve thought about this for four years now, and I think the reason she put me here is to get me out of the way. And I’m just a puppet, with her pulling the strings.” She sighed, and buried her face in her hands.

First off, what did she mean? Second, Thalia is only 22? What did she mean by being a puppet? I wanted to learn more; to help her, but didn’t want to invade her privacy. Thankfully, she continued her tragic story:

“I guess what I mean by puppet is that I’ve played along with her schemes. I act crazier than I actually am - maybe then, she’ll realize I’m still here, and that my mental processes are “deteriorating” because of my time here. I just want to get out of here. I haven’t seen her since the day she turned me in, four years ago. I’d just turned 18, and she couldn’t wait to get rid of me.” A few tears leaked from the corners of her eyes. I got some toilet paper and gave it to her to wipe her eyes.

“That’s terrible,” I told her, to comfort her and maybe get her to tell me a little more. She blew her nose a couple times and quieted as footsteps neared. No one came by at this time; guards stayed at the opposite end of the hallway. Since it was lights out, we weren’t allowed to talk. If someone heard us, we would miss two consecutive meals. I hoped they didn’t; however disgusting the food was, I needed it.

The person hesitated in front of our door. I did my best to pretend to be asleep, though I watched them in the moonlight. I didn’t recognize the silhouette. Someone short, maybe as tall as me, and thin, judging from the soft footsteps.

The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

They unlocked the door and slipped in. I braced myself for whatever would happen. “Byrd,” it whispered. “Is your roommate asleep?”

I considered it. Thalia wanted to get out, just like we do. She wouldn’t report us, unless doing so to curry favor with her mother.

“Indie? Thalia’s alright. You can speak freely.” I sat up. “Is that you? How did you get here?”

“I got arrested,” she replied. I could tell she was smiling.

“Why are you so happy?”

“Because,” she handed something to me, “now we have keys.”

I examined the key in my hand. “How did you get this?!”

“I have my ways,” she told me, then slipped out.

“Wait!” Do you know about our note system?”

“Yeah - through Finni, right?”

“Yeah. What’s your schedule?”

“I just got here this afternoon. I’ll tell you tomorrow.”

“Okay. Be careful getting back your cell.”

“It’s right down the hall. Not far.” Then she closed and locked the door as quietly as possible.

“Who’s that?” Thalia asked.

“Long story,” I said, not really wanting to talk.

“I’ve got all night.”

I felt bad at lying to her, but she couldn’t know about my other-dimensionness. “Indie is one of my twin sister’s advisors in her organization.”

“What sort of organization? Is it involved with why you’re here?”

“Yes.” I wasn’t sure how much to reveal to her, but pressed on, saying as little as possible. “My sister and I are rebels, and Indie helped us. Just today, it sounds like she was captured. But she’s resourceful. She’ll be alright.”

“Oh.” She sounded a little disappointed. “Rebels, fighting against an unjust government? Sounds like the premise of a bunch of basically identical dystopian teen romance novels.”

“I know, right?” I laughed along with her. Quietly, though; the scare of someone coming down the hallway was still fresh in my mind. “G’night.”

“Good night.”

I laid quietly for a minute, then thought of something. “Why do you act so crazy if you’re trying to get out of here? If you acted normally, you would have no need to be in here. Maybe you could try to win your mother’s favor by being an exemplary convict. Not all of a sudden, though - otherwise, they’ll think you really are crazy.”

No response. I knew she had not fallen asleep so quickly. I hoped she took my words to heart, for the sake of my sanity. She should, if she wanted to get out of here. It seemed to be the only logical way.

I couldn’t sleep; my mind was still racing about Thalia. I wondered if I shouldn’t have told her what to do. She is older than me, after all. And she knew her situation much better than I. “Sorry,” I whispered, to ease my conscience.

To my surprise, she answered. “It’s okay.”

The next morning, my brain confronted me with one overlying question: bring Thalia along or not? If I kept feeling sorry for every person here who gave me their story, I’d end up bringing along half the convicts! Where would she be in APE? How would she hide from her controlling mother? How, for that matter, would Torrin, Indie, Finni, Taylor, and I hide from the government?

My main prerogative a week ago was to get back to my dimension. Now, it involved releasing all these people from our unjust bonds, setting everything right with the animals, and returning me to my home; just not in that order. My heart, not used as often as it probably should, went out to all the disprivileged ones that I knew, animals and myself included.

Of course, I used my literal heart every second of the day; it’s what keeps me going. Without it, I would be nothing. I’m speaking of my figurative heart: the emotion center. Most of the time, I used my brain to make decisions. Emotion is not a huge part of me; it’s easier that way. I guess this trip has softened me. I lived a sheltered childhood where it was easier to be emotionless (or at least not to show emotion). Here, though, all these people are looking to me for help and direction, and emotion has to be used.

Thalia didn’t deserve to be in here, just like the rest of us. But would she be a liability or an asset? Certainly, Massingale would want to hunt her down to punish her. And if she found Thalia, she would find the rest of us. What happened to Thalia’s father? I couldn’t picture Elyssa Massingale being a mom. Obviously, she wasn’t a very good one if how Thalia felt about her was any indication.