Cell

"Watch where you're going, miss. You're under arrest."

A man who wears a black round-neck shirt which has a printed text namely "Gotcha!" in Papyrus font and appears to be a senior harshly grabbed my shaky twig-like arms.

Don't tell me...

Oh my goodness, The animals violently captured me. I mean, these catchers from the Jail booth!

His then villainous companion blindfolded my naked eyes with the assistance of a navy blue towel full of sweat.

Disgusting piece of turds. I can even sense the damp stuff from the fabric he used on my poor, sealed eyelids.

How repulsive.

Aren't these punks capable of bringing something fragrant and well-ironed for an eye-covering? I better inform this to their president as soon as possible.

I tried to twitch my limbs and upper body in the chances of letting me go. Yet, the men gradually toughened the compression of their hold on my arms.

They definitely won't give me an opportunity to run away from them.

Oh well, another disastrous day of my junior high school life.

Or should I say, Intramurals day to be specific?

Heck, yes. In my personal opinion, that damned school event is the worst highlight in every school year.

It is because it has a variety of sports which is not my cup of tea, and I find it pointless to play against the other sections to claim the victory.

Why would I tire the special physique of mine from running, jumping, kicking, and even injuring myself to beat my opponents?

For me, it's more reasonable to read some pocketbooks, experience an imaginary, fictitious realm where a compilation of husbands inhabits my fatty brain alone with a cup of coffee in a solemn atmosphere than to be involved in a youngsters' combat.

I wish not to be disturbed, yet the circumstances don't heed to my preferable moment of peace.

On my next attempt in running off from the hands of my seniors, I must say they are powerful enough to handle my foolish efforts.

"Hey, unhand me, sirs! Don't you see I'm having a hard time moving forward from the movie I watched?! You monsters!" I cried out.

Jeez, I have no idea where I am right now. The terrible towel is blocking vision; it was too murky, and all I can see is a dim light underneath the lid.

"Sorry, miss. We're just doing someone's request," the fine-looking man viciously responded.

"Request? By whom? How d-did you know me? When will you spare me? H-How much is the bail fee?" I ask in incessant.

A request, eh? I should assassinate that 'someone' after my much-hated incarceration. To that 'someone' out there, I'm going to chase you and slap your venomous face. Watch me, and I'll make sure you'll suffer from my iron fists.

"Dunno. Your name's written in the logbook. Two hours, and the bail fee, you ask? It's a no-go, Now, zipped your mouth, and celebrate your two- hour stay in jail," he answered calmly like it was a small deal.

Wow! Two hours. I wonder how much it costs for that 'someone' to imprison me.

Last attempt, if it doesn't work as I want to, I'll raise the white flag up as a sign of my surrender, and go with the flow of my ruthless fate.

I wriggled my arms in order to become free even if I'm struggling to move them. Nonetheless, I failed.

Their huge hands were fully wrapped in my fragile arms; no can do.

And, they halt. Alas, it is conceivably we are at designated prison jail where I will be detained for more than an hour.

In the absence of a word, they shove me inside of the room where the Almighty God discerns the dungeon in a cinch.

I hearken the clacking of the metal doors and I assume they are latching the opening to ensure themselves I cannot get away from the jail they've put me in.

Their footsteps are slowly departing from the cell; they are afar from me. I do not know what to do now; I feel helpless in a spot the sudden happenings are starting up to trigger my sanity.

They abandoned me. A guiltless lady who sobbed due to a masterpiece of a film didn't foresee that she would be undergoing a horrible confinement by herself in a dark-filled space.

In my desperation to break out, I begin pounding the doors and yelled my heart out. I pray one person or a savior outside would give a hand to help. "Help me! Please, I have a duty. The head will punish me if I didn't do my job."

With no reply from the other side of the door, I scrunch up my face. I am troubled and doomed. The bonafide students like me are possibly gathering at the school gymnasium for a short program.

Gah. I am having a headache; I needed to cease this pain in a hurry to survive in my cage.