Help Me: My Name is Peyton

"Wh..." Peyton began to talk, but decided not to. She knew why she was here, in the back of this police car.

"You have the right to remain silent."
"Well damn.. I wasn't going to talk anyways." She thought. Peyton stared out of the window, thinking. Not thinking. But thinking.
"Wow. Look at me. In the back of a police car." She thought. She now hated herself even more.
"Uhm.. Officer.. cop.. guy?" She said, wanting to ask him an innocent question.
"What do you want, kid?"
"How long do I have to.. you know.. stay... in jail?" Peyton asked him hesitantly.
"Just for tonight. Then, we're taking you to the medical facility for emotionally disturbed teenagers." He tried putting it nicely.
Peyton was silent.
"Am I really that bad?" Her eyes filled with tears.
Obviously, the cop noticed. "Hey kid... You're gonna be just fine." He tried to console her.
"Wow.." She just couldn't wrap her head around the fact that they were soon to be taking her to a mental facility.
Peyton realized that she must of been staring straight ahead for quite some time, because 45 minutes after she learned her fate, the car had stopped, and the cop was removing her from the car. People were staring. Staring. Right at her. Right through her. Her black clothes, black makeup, and everything else dark and scary about her.
"You'll be able to stay in your own clothes." The cop told her as they entered the building.
Well there's one positive.
The cop led her down hallways of girls. In cages. She would soon be one of them. He led her all the way to the absolute end of the hall. It was quiet now. And cold.
"You get your own cell." The cop informed her.
Peyton turned around while the cop unlocked her handcuffs, and opened the cell door. She walked into the cell and sat down on the plastic covered, hard as a rock, thin as a piece of paper, doesn't even deserved to be called, mattress.
"You call this a bed?" She thought.
"Ugh..." She actually said out loud.
"Get used to it." A voice from across the hall said, startling her.
"Hi. I'm Sara-Beth." She introduced herself.
"Peyton." Peyton waved shyly.
After a quick examination, Peyton realized that Sara-Beth was in her own clothes, too.
"Why are you here?" Sara asked her, hoping she wasn't the only one.
"I uhh.. I have to go to some teenager happy place tomorrow. You?"
"Yeah... Me too..." Sara said sadly. "Never thought it would come to this. "What did you do?"
"I held a knife to my father's girlfriend. That damn bastard called the cops on me."
"Ahh, fuck 'em."
"Hah, yeah. What about you?"
"Stole some money from a 7-11."
"Ahh." Peyton replied.

Just then, a cop, a different cop, came and unlocked both of their cells.
"Good news gals." He teased. "You get to go today. How exciting!" He laughed, almost to the point where it sounded like he was making fun of them.
They both rolled their eyes. After being cuffed up, they were directed down the hall and out of the main doors, were a gray van was parked. The cop slid open the van door and loaded them in.
"So wait..." Peyton said to Sara.
Sara looked at Peyton.
"Yeah?" Sara asked.
"Why do you have to go because you stole something? That's not as nearly as bad as my reason."
Sara-Beth looked straight ahead, silent. And the van drive the two of them away.