Under the Stars

From the time the four-horse carriage (followed by a tinted-window BMW) entered my school through the ginourmous front gates, my life went wild. But let me back up a sec. 

It was early Monday morning and I had just thrown on some clothes and grabbed breakfast from the cafeteria of my "bad-kid" boarding school, St. Charles Academy for Troubled Children. I wasn't a "troubled child," but more of a "trouble child." I don't want to talk about that right now though. 

Anyway, I was on my way to my class through the outer courtyard of this castle-like maze when warning horn blew and the massive bronze gates started to slowly open. It was a rare event, the gates opening. It usually meant a new kid was coming in, because no one really ever left this place. It was surrounded by huge smooth walls with watchtowers placed along them every so often. Beyond that, if I remember correctly, was a huge expanse of flat grass (so the guards in the watchtowers could spot any escapee the moment they stepped outside) and another fence topped with barbed wire and extending three feet into the ground. The only way in or out was through the main gates. I had wasted two years of my life in this prison camp and so far the gates had only opened five times. I took the obvious choice and stayed to watch with all the other kids. 

And that's when the fancy carriage drawn by four completely white horses drove in. The curtains were drawn and it bounced slightly on the cobbles of the courtyard. By now, a crowd had already gathered. Everyone ignored the bells signaling class should have begun. 

Crawling slowly behind the carriage came a black BMW, shiny and new. All of it's reflective windows were shut as tight as the curtains on the carriage, leaving me wondering who the heck was inside. It was definitely not a new kid, as those just end up being dumped here in one plain police car. 

My fingers twitched slightly. That BMW was so nice. I'd bet it had heated/cooled leather seats and- I had to have it. Maybe the driver was one of those snobby dopes that you can knock out with a punch and take their keys. Somehow I doubted it. And I didn't want this to be too easy. I missed the thrill of the chase, my fingers trembling with excitement as I tried to hotwire a car before the police came down my alley. I had never been caught, not until that cursed night when he turned me in.

But it was my fault. I had been an idiot. I had let my guard down and thought I could trust him. And it got me here. But I had learned my lesson. Now I only had to find a way out of here and everything would be set. My mind started hatching a plan, calculating probabilities and distances as it had done a thousand times before. It could definitely work. All I had to do now was go to class.