My whole body prickled with a mixture of excitement and fear or what was to happen. What do I do? Should I go back right away and return what I took, saying it was merely a mistake? It took every ounce of what I had to not run back. I couldn't even look at my pillow where the stolen goods lay underneath, so I sat on the other side of the bed with my head in my hands.


The digital clock on my white nightstand that matched the bed posts read 8:39. That couldn't be right. It was only around six when I was crossing the parking lot, today just kept getting more and more like a nightmare.

"Camille!" screeched my mom in her shrill voice. Now I definitely knew this was a nightmare.


I slammed my body against the bed; my arms sprawled everywhere and let out a huge sigh. My mom’s dainty fingers slipped through my door and she barged her way in like she always did. She was dressed head to toe in all white. She wore a white sweater with a white polo underneath, followed by a white pencil skirt and white Keds.


"Camille, dinner has been ready for twenty minutes already. Where have you been and when did you get home?" she asked no amount of concern, only annoyance.


"Just now mom, I-uh had a lot of stuff to do with student council today after school. You know the usual." I said talking to my ceiling, not bothering to look at her because I could never lie to her face.

"Okay, well your dinner is in the fridge if you want it." she said and closed the door behind her.


I couldn't even move let alone eat. I didn't even bother to change out of my clothes I just shoved the stolen goods in my pillow case and tossed it underneath my bed and collapsed onto the covers squeezing my eyes shut as to get the image of the man out of my head.







- - -


The next morning I opened my eyes to my blurry room. My clothes from the day before felt stiff and unfamiliar as I moved around to wake myself up. Saturday, I thought to myself, finally.
I rummaged through my closet next to my bed and haphazardly put on a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt that had a fainted bleach spot in the corner. My hair sat on top of my head in a birds nest and eyeliner was smudged around my eyes, but I didn't care. My stomach growled protesting the amount of time it would take to get ready.


Following my stomach I walked downstairs to the kitchen. The flawless kitchen with its red tiles and stainless steel machinery mocked my untidiness. On the table was a note from my mom saying that she had gone out with the neighbors for the day, and next to the green sticky note was a bowl of my favorite cereal; lucky charms. I pulled out the black wired chair as it screeched against the floor.


Knock, Knock, Knock. I looked at the chair in confusion, that wasn't the normal sound.


Knock, Knock, Knock. I heard again but this time it was coming from the front door, I pushed the chair back into the table and stumbled over. I opened the door and two police officers came into view.


"Hello, we're with Lakewood Police and there has been charges filed against a Camille Sanders."


At that moment in time reality came into view like a meteorite hitting the dinosaurs, well maybe not that huge, but reality sure did hit me; hard. The second police officer looked unsure what to do when he saw my face turn ghost white.

"Are you Camille Sanders?" he asked.

I nodded my head and shut my eyes. This can't be happening. I'm still asleep that's it!

"Well, Camille, are your parents’ home? We're going to have to take you with us."
"Uh-Excuse me? My m-mom isn't home s-she went somewhere, and what exactly have I done?"


"Same old story, pulling innocent huh?" laughed the police man to my right. He was short and bald almost like a sun bleached Mr. Potato Head toy. His over-sized nose was connected to a big bushy mustache that hid his fat lips.

The police man to my left was tall and broad, the most intimidating out of the two. His dark skin contrasted with his partner and his beady eyes stared down on me. In his hand was a file which he flipped open scanning the paper.

"It says here, 'Camille Sanders charged with the felony of stealing from Discount Drug Mart.'" he chuckled and shook his head, "It also states that you have been reported doing this five times through the course of the month, but they dropped charges until now."

"What?!" I yelled, unable to contain myself. "Okay so I think I accidentally...”
"Accidentally?" said Mr. Potato Head, "Really? If you're going to lie sweetheart do better than that."
"No! I'm not lying I accidentally took some stuff from Discount Drug Mart last night but it's upstairs I swear and you can have it all back! Five other times this month? That's absurd!"




Mr. Potato Head grabbed my wrists faster than reality this time; I was twirled around, in handcuffs, and in the backseat of their police car listening to the statement I've heard them say thousands of times on TV shows. When the car started to move I pressed my head up against the cold window pane. So much for those lucky charms, I thought.

The drive to the police station was quiet. It felt like a brick wall was set in between me and the officers. I wasn't getting any say in my situation, and they weren't giving me any answers. Taking me in they called my parents and notified them what happened, I could practically hear my mom crying on the other end. The next few hours went by in a blur, they took down my information and made me wait out in a waiting room talking to the court downtown about a potential hearing, if they could fit it in today. By the time Mr. Potato Head had gotten off the phone it was already four o'clock and I was starving.

"Well, Ms. Sanders all the information is in order, and your warrant and petition have been brought to me." Mr. Potato Head said stepping out of his office pushing out his stomach with glee.

"What petition?" I asked.


"A petition is a legal document that states why you are being taken into court. It also includes facts about when the crime was committed, et cetera, et cetera. And," he emphasized sticking out his stomach more and resting his hands in his belt loops, "It also requires you to be in court and to be presented in front of a judge where he will find out the truths about these alleged crimes committed and then decide your sentence."

I tried my hardest not to scowl at his very obvious pleasure of me going to a hearing.

"Well, kind sir." I said gritting my teeth together, "What's a warrant then? Aren't they the same thing?"

"It's just another legal document stating that you need to attend the assigned hearing today."


"Today?!" I practically jumped out of my chair, this doesn't seem right. "People usually get a couple days or a week before their hearing is assigned."


"Need to practice your speech for the judge?" he asked narrowing his eyes at me, "Ms. Sanders you are what we have deemed a 'special case' and i guess you could say you are getting special treatment and get to have your hearing today."

Yeah, very special. Thanks.


After my mumbling about being stuck in here, the other police officer who was in the car with me stepped out of the office and stood in front of Mr. Potato Head.

"I'm Officer Gerald. I will be escorting you to your hearing Ms. Sanders. Your parents have been notified and they are on their way to meet you."


Officer Gerald exited out the front door and motioned for me to follow; I couldn't hold it in any longer and scowled at Mr. Potato Head as he bounced away back into his office. I followed Officer Gerald outside and into the garage where the cars were parked. Getting in it felt like the same brick wall that prevented me from getting answers or asking questions went up again, but he spoke.


"You don't have to be nervous. You're just going to a hearing in front of a magistrate who is sort of an unofficial judge or a step down from a judge. You don't need a lawyer you just simply tell the judge what you did."

"But I didn't do anything." I blurted out, but simply averted his eyes and stared out the window.


He sighed as we stopped at a red light and cradled his head in his hands.
"I can't say much but a lot of kids are brought in all over the country like you, and just state the truth that's all you can do."


He stepped on the gas as soon as the light turned green and I continued to look out the window. What does that mean that I'm a "special case". I shook my head and decided not to think about it but instead I focused on what I was going to say to my parents and how do I convince the judge I'm truly innocent, but was I really?

Like all the other buildings in my small town of Lakewood, the downtown courthouse was brick. The windows were outlined in black and it screamed at me to help the poor crumpling building. The garden that surrounded the front stairs was withering and sighing in despair, but inside the building was a whole different story. Walking in I never would've guessed it looked like that from the outside. The floor was a deep red marble that matched the brick exterior and the walls were solid white with intricate patterns on the ceiling. People dressed up in business suits too tight for their body rushed past with papers flailing everywhere. To the left were big oak doors leading into, what I assumed the court room. Across from the entrance was three glass doors that lead to different offices, and in the middle of the room stood a 10 foot tall statue. The statue was of a man who looked down on everyone else rushing by. His white carved out hair blew in the nonexistent wind and his eyes looked dead and wary. He carried a gavel in his right hand and a necklace in his left, but before I could see what it was of I was whisked away by Officer Gerald.


We headed for the second door across from the statue. "Uhm Gerald?" I asked cautiously, "Aren't we supposed to be going over there?" I pointed across the room to the oak doors, but he just laughed.

"Brush up on your legal terms kiddo. You're seeing a magistrate which is a step down from a judge. He don't get no fancy court hall, he gets an office."


When we came closer to the door, thick black letters were written across it spelling out Mr. Gabsworth in cursive. Gerald held it open and gestured his hand inside.


"Ah! Mr. Kingsley, I've been expecting you. Just be glad I could take this case on such short notice." he chuckled as he shook Gerald's hand and then sat back down. The wide office room had royal red carpeting and oak walls that had bookcases set into it. Next Mr. Gabsworth turned to me, "And you young lady must be Ms. Sanders, yes? I've been hearing quite a lot about you lately." he chuckled again, but quickly stopped when Gerald coughed violently from behind me.


"Well, let's get this started. I am Mr. Gabsworth I will be your Magistrate for this case." his large belly pressed up against his desk even when he leaned back in his chair. He looked like the cheerier version of Mr. Potato Head, minus the big nose. He grabbed papers from his desk and scanned them reciting aloud, "Camille Sanders has been charged with theft five consecutive times in the past couple months." He set the papers back down and folded his hands over his chest, "Ms. Sanders take a seat and please tell me do you plead guilty or not guilty?"

"Not guilty." I said immediately. I kept my gaze strong to assure him I was telling the truth.


"I'm sorry Ms. Sanders I want so badly to believe you..." his speech was interrupted when Gerald let out a violent cough again that sounded more like get on with it. "But you have been spotted by multiple people and today we have received video tapes from the store you robbed last night."


I leaned back in my chair and sighed, what was I supposed to do? Tell them that some scary man forced me to steal that stuff? Ha ha, like that would work.


Mr. Gabsworth took out more papers and started to scribble like mad while looking up at me periodically, I twiddled my thumbs nervously in anticipation. The phone on his desk interrupted the palpable silence.


"Hello?" he said, speaking into the phone while still writing away with one hand, "Ah yes well we are just about done we will send her out." He put the phone back down and finished writing. "Well Ms. Sanders your parents have just arrived and just in time. Your sentence is that you are to be sent to Chandler Academy. It is a fine school for children just like you, and they ought to teach you some good. I've scheduled your flight and the paperwork is all here. Chandler Academy already has your school transcripts and your schedule is already made. You will leave tomorrow at nine in the morning. Thank you Ms. Sanders, now off you go."


"Are you joking? You can't just send me away to another school for taking one little thing. This is absurd, is this even allowed in the judicial system? I'm getting a lawyer!" I said screaming and standing out of my chair.


Suddenly Mr. Gabsworth's eyes turned ice cold and he turned his head towards Gerald who nodded. Gerald took me by the arms and dragged me outside while I protested the whole way there. When we reached the bustling hallway my parents ran up to meet me.


My mom looked a mess, her hair was a complete birds nest and her skirt was all twisted. My dad looked the same as he always did but a new expression of worry was on his face. My mom brushed my hair out of my eyes and stepped aside to talk to Gerald. I just stood there crossing my arms like a five year old who was just told that they were to be put in time out. This couldn't be happening, my parents would never agree to this. It hasn't even been twenty-four hours and they're already shipping me off?


"Camille, come on let's go." she sighed looking like she just lost the biggest fight of her life, "You need to pack."


My heart dropped. This was a dream, it was all just some crazy messed up dream. But sadly it wasn't and before I could think I was back in my car on my way back to my house where just this morning all I wanted was some Lucky Charms.