Young Writers Society

Thank you for considering the Oakland Institute. We are not any ordinary school. We are one of the world's finest institutions for your troubled child. Located in the scenic forests of Canada, your child will spend their time will live, work, eat and take class in our beautiful Boucherie building. Consider sending in an application today. You won't regret it. When your child graduates from Oakland, you will notice a stark difference in their behavior.

It something along the lines of the above that prefaces advertisements for The Oakland Institute, a school for troubled children tucked away in the Canadian forests. Owned by an elderly American couple, the school promises that children will be able to "find themselves", and through hard work and schooling will return from Oakland as contributing members of society. And some parents begin to send their children away.

Its children, upon arrival, begin to realize that everything they thought they knew about the place they were being sent against their will is a lie. Armed guards line every corner of the premises. Free time is not allowed. Food is rotten and spoiled and children are beaten for not doing what they're supposed to do. Instead of classes, its students are forced to perform harsh physical labor day in and day out.

One day, a ten year old student named Michael is killed by an armed guard after being beaten severely for "slacking off". When no remorse is shown by the guard or any of the staff, the other children begin to get suspicious, especially his sister Emily (also in attendance at Oakland). When it is discovered that the death is being covered up, the children begin to fear for their lives.

They learn a harsh truth about its owners and their intentions in beginning the school, and they must escape before it is too late. But they are in the remote wilderness, far away from home. They have no technology and they know no one. Armed guards are everywhere and the forest is thick with dangers. Yet eight students decide they will risk everything to leave.

You portray one of the eight. Good luck.

Spots


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[b]Age:[/b] (10-18)
[b]Personality:[/b]
[b]Pre-Oakland Background:[/b]
[b]Post-Oakland Background:[/b]
[b]Other:[/b]


Still plenty of space left if anyone wants to join! I'm not scary, I promise.

Can I reserve two characters please?

Absolutely!

I'd like to reserve a spot please. Profile soon!

Are we going to start soon?

yes! We need one more character.

Alrighty guys, eight characters, lets do this!

Hey everyone, please check my post in the DT and check in if you have not. First post will go up very soon!

Starting now! All further out of character comments should go in the DT.

-

"Get the girl some hot chocolate, Dave," Mrs. Beck said to her husband. She was in her mid fifties and had been beautiful once, but now that was faded behind prematurely white hair, leathery, lined skin and thick-rimmed bifocals. Dave, known by the children as Dr. Beck (because he actually cared about college and had gotten his PhD), nodded and went into the adjacent kitchen.

"My name is Emily," said the girl as she wiped her eyes, which were red with tears.

"Emily, for this unfortunate matter about your brother..." Mrs. Beck began. She was still figuring out how she was going to resolve what had happened two days ago. It wasn't fair. She hadn't shot the boy. She'd been in her office because she busy trying to run a school- a school for troubled teenagers, no less! It was hard work. She'd fired the guard, but it was just her look that the boy who had died had older sister fiercely protective of him.

"Aren't you going to press charges? That man killed my brother. You're supposed to keep us safe here, not let us get killed." Emily had a harsh tone in her voice.

As Mrs. Beck hesitated, Emily already knew the answer. They'd been talking for forty-five minutes and had gotten nowhere.

Dr. Beck came back with the hot chocolate, but Emily refused it. "You two are the most selfish, ridiculous people that I know if you think a cup of hot chocolate is going to help me not miss my brother." She didn't care what they thought. She was done with these two ridiculous excuses for teachers, and this school. She couldn't imagine rotting two more years in this hellhole.

She left, slamming the door behind her. It was supposed to be lunch now, but Emily wasn't hungry. Instead she went back to her bunk, and waiting for work to start again. She cried the whole time.

Addaline Wald

The bell rang releasing us for lunch and I practically bolted to the cafeteria, pushing people out of my path. I ignored the comments from the others as I elbowed my way to the front of the line. I held out my tray and the guard serving us today plopped something mashed onto my plate. I held back my look of disgust and headed towards my table. Parker and Scarlet were already there.

"Hello, boys." I winked and sat down next to Parker. "How are you guys on this fine morn?"

"Why are you being so weird, Ad?" Scar hissed.

"I just love this place so, so, much!" I said wrapping my arms around Parker and squeezing him.

Both of the boys eyed me. I was caught.

I cleared my throat and leaned into the middle of the table. "Okay look," I whispered. "Everyone knows about the murder and how it was no accident. They don't care anymore. One of us could be next, and it's not going to be me."

I leaned back. "Hey, Scar." I nodded towards her.

She smiled at me and a wave of silence washed over us. No one wanted to talk about what happened to the the little boy. No one wanted to be next.

I picked up my plastic fork and played with whatever was on my plate.

"So, Addie," Scarlet sighed. "I'm guessing the mission's off tonight, huh?"

I nodded, my eyes wide. Scarlet and I planned to raid the boys' room and mess with them while they're sleeping. We plotted it before Michael's death. After what happened a few days ago, we wouldn't dare sneak out after curfew.

Dun dun duuuuuun! Sorry it took me so long to post c:

Parker Graves

I narrowed my eyes at the girls but didn't say anything. Addaline's words had caught me off guard, though she hadn't surprised me. All of us wanted to get out of here, but no one had ever spoke of escaping. The thought of it had me on edge. I knew Addy; when she got an idea in her head, she was going to see it out and there was nothing anyone could do to stop her.

I opened my mouth to say something, but a flash of unfamiliar blonde hair caught my attention before I could voice my opinion. She was tall and thin with a line of bruises traveling down her right cheek and disappearing into her shirt. A sarcastic smile was glued to her lips as she carried her tray to a nearly empty table, tossing it down as if she were tossing a book. She sat alone, I noted, and didn't bother touching the food she had been served.

"Who's that?" I asked, hitching a thumb in her direction. All eyes followed my finger, taking in the fragile looking girl. She was nothing but skin and bones, but the way she carried herself, as if she couldn't have a care in the world, made me think that the fragile little girl thing was just an act.

"That's Raeleigh Stark," someone answered, not bothering to keep their voice low enough so that she wouldn't hear. "She's new around here."

Raeleigh Stark

I heard my name the moment I sat down. Crossing my arms over my chest lightly, I glanced up to meet four sets of eyes, all of them staring at me with curiosity. Raising my eyebrows, I dared any of them to say another word, as if I thought they might try to pick a fight.

As it seemed, everyone at Oakland minded their own business most of the time, and just from the past couple of weeks that I had been here I hadn't seen a single fight break out between the teens. Still, I was wary of the others, because I didn't know who they were or what they might want from me. On the inside I knew that making friends around here might be the best route to go, but I didn't want anyone else to think that it was an open invitation to join my lunch table. This wasn't high school; in fact, it was far from it.

Scarlet DeHaven

I fell silent, still bummed Addy and I weren't going on with our little plan. But with that kid getting killed, there was no way I wanted to risk my best friend in this godforsaken place, not when anyone could be next. I was pissed, not stupid. A panty raid was not worth Addy's life, or mine.

"Who's that?" Parker asked suddenly, hitching his thumb to the left. I followed the pointed direction and felt a tiny prick of jealousy spike in my stomach.

A few tables over sat a blonde girl, she must have been new. You got to know people pretty fast here, and I'd never seen her before. She was pretty, but fragile looking, with a long string of bruises painting her pale skin. We all stared at her for a moment.

"That's Raeleigh Stark," Addy answered, not bothering to keep their voice low enough so that she wouldn't hear. "She's new around here."

She looked over at us, mostly indifferent, but something else too. She looked as though she thought we were less, as though we wouldn't bother her. It was a comfortable, blatant stare down. Normally, the response would be to politely look away. But I didn't. Normal was way out of my range.

So I winked and stood up. I walked over to her table where she sat alone. "Hey," I said. "What up new girl."

Raeleigh Stark

I stared blankly at the girl in front of me, refusing to show a reaction though in the pit of my stomach I was hopeful that she might come over. It was obvious in her eyes that she didn't care for me much, and I was sure I was coming off the same way. My eyes slid sideways to look at the others, who were watching our encounter as if I were an alien.

"Can I help you?" I asked without looking at her, my voice coming out much quieter than I had originally planned. I glanced back at her, every muscle in my body tensing up as if to flee. First impressions were never really my thing. In fact, almost everyone who knew me thought I was just bad news, and in a way they were right. Though all I really wanted to do was get up and walk away, I planted a smirk on my face, crossing and uncrossing my arms--and making sure my bandaged wrist was hidden--as we stared each other down.

Raeleigh stared me down. "Can I help you?" she asked, something flickering in her face, only briefly, but still I noticed. I was good at that sort of thing. And somehow, my former jealousy slipped away, along with any other intention I had when I walked over here. She fidgeted nervously. Most people wouldn't notice, but I did.

The little things like that was the way to let people at the "special kid schools" that told you whether or not they planned on hurting you. Except for here. Everything was strange here.

I relaxed my shoulders, ever so slightly, to let her know that I meant her no harm. "Nope," I said. "But it's lame to sit alone. I'm saving your butt." Then quietly after a quick internal debate, I added, "It's not safe." I looked over at the rest of my group and smiled, waving them over.