Ordinary World

Matt didn't even know it was possible to get this far away from civilisation.

They've been driving for hours; first through unending fields of indistinguishable crops, along a dreary highway. It was deserted of all vehicles but this decrepit bus, which trundles over the asphalt like a weary crippled man. It probably longs for the journey to end as much as its passengers do - a blessed rest for its beaten body.

It's only been recently that the monotonous landscape has changed, but Matt would hardly say that the switch was for the better. This dark forest bodes no good, and peering with wide blue eyes through the dense trees, the teen can already picture Jason Vorhees, ready to strike when the sun falls. As this thought comes to him, he shakes his head and tries to clear the image. This is terrifying enough without undead serial killers on his mind.

The canopy of trees above is so thick, that what little light managing to bleed through is hazy and tainted green. It's as though the dew and moss on the boughs surrounding the road have infected the air itself.

Just as he's beginning to wonder if the arduous journey will ever end, the movement of the creaky bus over the ground becomes slower and the vehicle turns a tight corner on to a track that can't be any more substantial than a layer of dirt. As they judder along, Matt thanks the heavens that he doesn't get car sick.

A quick glance around tells him that this isn't the case for everyone and he shifts in his seat, hoping they can control their stomachs.

Considering that it's full of teenage boys with 'behavioral problems', the vehicle is strangely quiet. This may be due to the fact that none of them know each other, but Matt doubts this. Not everyone's as shy as him and at least one person should be extroverted enough to forge a conversation.

He's equally doubtful that it's due to the staff, whom have been glaring at the dozen or so teens for the journey's duration. Realistically, they wouldn't be able to silence most of the guys on board.

No, the oppressive silence is pressed down by this forest. Call it paranoia, call it the result of watching one too many horror movies, but there's something about the dreary scenery that's sending chills down Matt's spine.

Finally, the bus pulls up in front of a small huddle of wooden cabins. The dwellings are leaning together, as though sharing secrets, and even if the thinning branches overhead makes the scene a little brighter than the rest of the wood, this place is entirely uninviting. Matt has never seen anything quite like it.

The city he's from is huge. The sterile, glistening towers pierce the sky with their steel roofs, the tips seeming to graze the pitch of the night sky. Everything is bright there, either from the scorching sunlight, or the harsh street lamps that chase out the dark. At any given time, the streets will be buzzing with people going about their lives, safe in the knowledge that nothing can harm them.

The camp is the polar opposite of that. The small buildings seem to be constructed from wood, with corrugated iron roofs. They're crushed together, as though trying to shelter each other from the oppressive surroundings, and covered in filth. The only inhabitants are the boys - too young to be in jail, but old enough the commit the crimes that landed them here - and the wardens. It may only be a few dozen miles away from the city, but it could be another world altogether.

Unwillingly, Matt grabs his bag and joins the other teens as they troop off the bus. Outside, the air's muggy and the whole place smells weird - especially to Matt, who's never stepped foot out of a city in his life. That's doubtlessly the same for the other boys here. It's not safe away from civilization.

The cluster of boys gather around the two parked buses, amounting to a few dozen in total. They're supposed to be delinquents, but right now, all Matt can see are reflections of himself - scared, nervous kids.

No one's talking, but the silence suddenly seems even more cutting when a huge, bald man marches up to them and adopts a soldier's stance as he stares down at his subjects. A few gaze back, trying to be bold, but the trepidation is clear on most faces. He surveys them quickly, before speaking with a surprisingly soft voice.

"I would say welcome to Camp Marque, but you all know why you're here, as do I. Whatever that may be, you can rest assured that there will be none of that behaviour here. You're menaces to society, but when you leave, that will no longer be the case.

"The rules here are simple. You will do what you're told, when you're told. There will be no fighting with the other boys. You are to be civil to all staff, and address them as 'sir'. You must be in your dorm by eleven o’clock every evening, unless specified otherwise. You won't be late to any of your allocated activities. You won't engage in any form of sexual activity. You won't leave the boundaries of the camp. The last rule is for your own protection. Break any of the others and you will only have yourself to thank when you face the consequences.

"Now, Doctor Kerry with assign you to your dorms. You will go straight there, unpack, and then convene in the mess hall in an hour. I do not expect to see you again until that time."

With one last glare at the group, the soldier walks back inside and leaves another man - presumably Doctor Kerry - to step up.

"The dorms are through there. The room you're assigned is the one you will stay in. If you have any issues with this, just remember why you're here."

Matt can't help but raise an eyebrow at that, but he's not going to be the one to call Kerry out on his lack of empathy.

The man begins listing names (last then first) along with the numbers. The first boys to be called shuffle nervously towards the door indicated. No one wants to be the first to enter the ramshackle building, which looks ready to collapse in on itself.

Thankfully, his name is one of the last to be called - along with the number twenty-two - so he doesn't have to be the bold one to enter first. Instead, he follows the trickle of boys into what will be their home for the next few months.

Inside, the scene is no less forgiving. Beige walls with cracks running through the plaster, peeling paints on the doors, and highly tarnished brass handles. The corridor is bright, but the excessive light is harsh, not welcoming.

Matt finds room twenty-two and twists the knob to discover it's unlocked. The only light to see by is that leaking through a dirty pane of glass and he fumbles for the light switch.

With similar decor to the corridor, plus two rusting bunk beds and a high set narrow window set high in the wall, it's much as Matt expected. It's too small for his liking and the tiny window reminds him of the one in his basement back home, which only adds to the claustrophobic effect.

The teen sighs and dumps his bag on the floor, before collapsing on to one of the beds. Half of him is surprised that he's had even the small choice of which bunk is his.

The next boy to come in enters in a catapult of dark blond hair and long limbs, clearly having tripped over the small ridge in the doorway. Matt hears sniggers from the corridor and feels embarrassed on the guy's behalf. When he picks himself up however, it's with a certain dignity that Matt's sure he'd never be able to pull off himself. The boy just scowls at him, picks up his bag and throws it on to the top bunk opposite him.

Matt's slightly in awe of how gracefully he swings himself up afterwards. When the guy catches his eye again, he looks away quickly.

Not more than a minute later, the door swings open again. The next boy is also a blond, but certainly more cheerful than the last.

"Hi," he grins at the two, blue eyes twinkling.

Matt waves back cautiously, unable to understand how anyone could be here, yet still look so happy. He glances across at his other roommate, who is just staring indifferently at the boy currently chucking his own bag on to the bunk above Matt.

"I'm Corey."

The blond's suddenly in front of him, hand extended.

"Matt," he shakes it tentatively.

"I'd say nice to meet you, but this isn't exactly the best of circumstances." Corey smiles and leans back against the wall by their bunk.

He has an accent that Matt can't quite place. It's not as posh as the English one he's used to back home, and not as strong and gravelly as his own. It's a pleasant voice though, perhaps an octave or so deeper than him.

"What's your name?" Corey proceeds to address the sulky boy, who's yet to have spoken.

He looks as though he's highly tempted to ignore the other teen's question and just sits on his bed scowling down at them. Corey stares back. His expression may be open, but his eyes are hard. Matt wonders what could have happened to make the blue orbs so steely in an otherwise gentle face.

After a moment or so, the other boy answers, "Alexi."

"Where are you from?" Corey presses. The glare just seems to egg him on further with his questioning. "I don't recognise your accent."

Alexi shoots him a look that suggests that he's strongly contemplating murder. "Finland."

"That would explain it. You're Welsh, eh?" The last part is directed at Matt.

He nods. "What about you?"

"Iowa. It's in The States."

"That would explain your rudeness." Alexi snorts. Even the harsh noise is somehow dainty. If not for the complete lack of curves, Matt would wonder if they'd somehow landed themselves with a female roommate. He's never seen a guy quite so delicate in appearance.

Corey frowns, but doesn't rebuke him. Instead he shrugs and changes the subject. "What are you guys here for?"

Alexi just groans and flops down. When Corey's attention turns on him, Matt shrinks back.

Thankfully, he's saved by the door opening again, this time slowly. A short boy leans around tentatively and looks at the three of them through a dark shaggy fringe. Matt can see the movement of the stud in his bottom lip - it's obvious he's biting the inside of it. It's a nervous habit Matt has himself, and he finds his tongue reaching for the inside of the ring currently in place.

"Hey!" Corey's greeting is no less enthusiastic than it had been for the other two.

"Hi," the boy mumbles, tripping over his own feet as he enters. His eyes are on the floor.

"I'm Corey, and those two are Matt and Alexi!"

Matt rolls his eyes as the teen introduces them all. His hyperactive behaviour is already beginning to irritate him. Why did he have to get stuck with the maniac and the girl on her period?

"Er, I'm Jay." The newcomer replies, dragging his back to the bunk adjacent to Matt's. He sits down and looks across at the other two, a hopeless look painted across his face.

Matt just looks back across at him pityingly. He wants to comfort the boy, whom he estimates to be a year or so younger than his eighteen years. However, his own shy nature holds him back and all he does is give Jay a small smile, which is nervously returned.

Overhead, a bell rings.

"What was that?" Corey asks, peering at the red fire bell mounted on the wall.

"Probably to go to the mess hall." Alexi replies, swinging himself down to land lightly on the balls of his feet.

"It can't have been an hour yet, surely?" Matt interjects. He's not ready to face the rest of the camp yet, never mind the staff.

"Unless you have any better idea." Alexi raises one of his eye brows.

"No,"

"Thought not," he says and leaves.

"What an arse." Jay says quietly, making Matt laugh.

"My thoughts, exactly." He grins. "You ok?"

The other boy shrugs, "As 'ok' as I could be."

"Yeah," Matt sighs.

"No point bitching though, eh?" Corey cuts in. "Like it or not, we're all here. May as well make the best of it."

Matt can't disagree. "To the mess hall then, I guess."

The three troupe out, following the herds to trying to find their destination. The boys all seem to be more at ease now. Perhaps not happy, but not as though they're preparing themselves for impending death. Of course, this may be a bit pre-emptive, considering that barely a full hour has passed since they're arrived. Mumbled conversations are passing between the teens and the quiet babble is a thousand times better than the oppressive silence that had hung in the air on their arrival.

"Jimmy!" Corey suddenly calls out, making Matt jump.

A tall boy walking away from them turns around. He smiles at Corey and steps aside to let the tide of boys walk around him as they drag their feet through the cracked hallway. When the blond reaches him, he extends an arm and pulls the smaller boy into a tight embrace, pressing a kiss on the top of his head. Matt can't help but gawk at the affectionate display.

"You ok?" Jim asks, pushing a strand of his long black hair behind his ear as he gazes down at Corey. He looks concerned, and to a degree which Matt can’t quite justify.

"Of course," Corey seems to agree. "We've only been here an hour. That isn't long enough to get in trouble, even for me!" He exclaims.

"It wouldn't surprise me." Jim mutters, then his brown eyes dart to Matt and Jay standing just behind him.

Corey follows his stare and chuckles at the other teens' intimidated expressions. "Guys, this is James, or Jim if you prefer. Jim, this is Matt and Jay. They're lucky enough to be sharing a room with me!"

The taller boy laughs. "I think 'unfortunate' is the word you're looking for Cor'. Also, hi." The last bit is directed at the two of them and accompanied by a small wave.

"Hi," Matt responds. Jay just gives a small nod.

"What are the people you're with like?" Corey pesters the taller boy, poking his ribs. James winces away. He's grinning though and still has one of his lanky arms wrapped around the other teen.

"They seem ok." He answers, resuming their slow walk down the corridor. Most of the other boys are outside by now and only the nervous tail end the inhabitants are dragging their feet as they shuffle to the hall. "There's a guy who's blond hair could rival your's, another who refuses to speak and another dude who's really a bitch."

Corey laughs. "We've got one of those too! Ours is highly fuckable though."

Matt flushes violently at the American’s words and glances sideways at Jay to see him looking equally shocked.

Jim simply chuckles. "Try and keep it in your pants, dude. Remember what happened last time?"

Now it's Corey's turn to blush. He plays his embarrassment down though, rolling his eyes and huffing at his friend. Matt finds himself smirking at how obvious his discomfort is. He can't help but wonder what happened there.

Together, the four of them wander out of the building and into another with 'Canteen' written in flaking paint across the top. Although there's no noise coming from inside, it's obviously where they and the other new boys are supposed to be headed.

Once under the glaring lights of the hall, the reason behind the lack of voices becomes obvious - the soldier from earlier is standing at the front of the room. Once again, he's in a rigid stance and glaring down at the teens from his position on a raised dais. Matt realises they were never actually told his name.

He doesn't say anything and they wait in silence until the last two boys take their seats. Then, the doors swing closed behind them and trolleys laden with food are rolled through by two women and a man, all with stern faces. They serve the teens one by one and when each has a plate of flaming stew sitting in front of them, they disappear again.

Matt glances up at the soldier and for a terrifying moment, their eyes meet. He looks away again quickly.

"Eat." The order rings out across the room.

The boys tuck in quickly, the unspoken order of hush still muting them. Matt doesn't mind though. Not having to make conversation is far easier in his opinion and this gives him the chance to study the others.

He's on a table with Jay, Corey and Jim, but Alexi and another blond are sitting just a little further along. There's also a chubby kid with black hair and thickly framed glasses. His eyes are fixed firmly on his plate and he's eating tentatively, as though every bite could contain some lethal poison.

Matt quickly deems him to be the most ordinary looking out of all the boys. The rest all have too much hair - or not enough - to be socially acceptable, or a line of ink not hidden by their shirts, giving them away as outcasts. Piercings stud ears and faces, and loop around lips whilst fingers are tipped with black polish.

Then there are the scars.

Matt knows he doesn't have any noticeable ones himself, but Jay has a small, ugly warp in the flesh of his forearm, which Matt guesses was the result of a cigarette burn. Jim's knuckles have fresh cuts on them and now he looks closely the younger boy can see the faded yellow mark of a bruise on his cheek. The bespectacled boy further along has a similar mark, but his is still an ugly purple and far more noticeable. There's certain off centre angle to his nose that implies that it's been broken recently as well. Opposite him, Corey has his eyes cast down, allowing Matt to see the raised lines of scar tissue on his lids. The only two who seem relatively unmarked are Alexi and his fellow blond - but that may just be because they're both too far away for Matt to make out the subtle change in skin tone that comes with the healing of severe injuries.

He carries on studying the others for the duration of the meal, not feeling particularly hungry. He can't taste the food anyway. A massive, scarcely cooked steak could have been placed in front of him at that moment, and he probably wouldn't have been able to bring himself to touch it.

That's not the case for most around him though - Corey's wolfing down the meal as though he hasn't eaten in weeks. The boy's incredibly skinny, but until now, Matt hadn't thought anything of it. After all, most teens he knows are and they all eat like pigs. Somehow though, the way the light catches the prominent bones under Corey's skin doesn't seem natural.

When the food's finally been cleared away, the soldier speaks again. He's just been standing there, glaring, for the entire meal.

"If you are not amongst those who arrived today, you are now free to leave. If you are a newcomer, please line up against the wall."

Matt's eyes dart across to Jay. The smaller boy looks as nervous as he feels. Whether that's reassuring or not, Matt can't decide.

About three quarters of the boys shuffle out, whilst the few dozen that arrived today obediently line up. Once they've assumed their positions, and the only movements are the nervous flutter of eyes up and down the room, the soldier descends from his dais. He begins a slow walk past the boys, inspecting each of them individually. Occasionally, he'll extend a hand and a glimmer of metal will pass into it, or a hair tie will leave. As he gets closer, Matt finds himself nervously shifting from foot to foot and worrying the inside of his mouth piercing.

The man comes to a halt in front of him and gestures at his labret and eyebrow jewellery. Matt reluctantly reaches up and removes both. In exchange, he's giving an elastic tie which he scrapes his shoulder length black hair into. Next to him, Jim's pulling his own thick hair in to a scruffy pony tail.

When the soldier is done with his inspection, he crosses back over so he's standing in front of the assembled boys.

"The bell rings at seven tomorrow morning. You are to be here - dressed and showered - no more than half an later. You may now return to your dorms. Goodnight." With that, he leaves.

A quick glance around reveals that all of the caretakers have left as well and tension flood from the room. Matt lets out a relieved sigh of his own and relaxes from a tense pose that he hadn't realised he'd adopted.

"Well, this is fun." Corey snorts, as they begin their walk back to the dorms.

"What did you expect?" Jim throws back at him.

The smaller boy glares back, but quickly lowers his gaze with a sigh. "I said I was sorry, ok?"

James huffs, and pulls him into another hug. Matt looks away, not wanting to intrude on their privacy, and his eyes land back on Jay.

"You ok, man?" It's a stupid question, but he can't think of anything else to say.

The other teen shrugs. "As ok as I can be, I guess. Sucks they took my piercing though - it'll have closed up by the time I'm outta here."

"Yeah, that sucks." Matt shakes his head. "If it makes you feel any better though, mine will have probably closed too. And I was half expecting them to shave our heads when we came here."

"That would have been awful."

"It could have been amusing," Corey cuts in. "And I always wondered what I'd look like bald."

"Incredible, no doubt." Jim says, sarcasm heavy in his voice.

"Shut up. You'd still think I'm hot!"

Matt laughs, whilst the taller boy just rolls his eyes.

The two continue to bicker as they walk. It's relaxing somehow.

Corey may be irritating, but his and Jim's easy joking makes the whole situation seem less threatening. Almost as though this place is some innocent summer camp, not an institute for teenage boys deemed unfit to remain in society.

Once inside, James says goodnight to them all and presses a brief kiss to Corey's head. Matt can't help but wonder what their relationship is - they're either a couple, or brothers in the sense of bond if not blood. He doesn't know enough about either to figure it out, but that will probably change sooner or later. After all, he's going to be living with Corey for the next six months and that's more than enough time to figure someone out.

Alexi's already in the room when the three of them troupe in. He's sitting topless on his bed, leaning back against the wall with his eyes closed. If not for the perpetual frown on the blond's face, Matt thinks that Corey's previous sentiment may be true - the guy is gorgeous.

As though he can hear Matt's train of thought, Alexi's eyes drop down to him. They're icy flints and the Welsh boy immediately reverses his opinion. He's not going near that with a ten foot pole.

"Hey, you know what's awesome?" Corey says, clambering up in to his own bed. "Look," He pulls his t-shirt up over his head, and happily gestures to the ring threaded through his right nipple. "He didn't check!"

"Great," Matt laughs. "I'm sure that will be useful."

"Well, you never know. May find someone here up for a quickie."

"You're revolting." Alexi snorts.

"Thanks. So is the stick you have shoved up your ass."

Alexi doesn't reply, just rolls his eyes and resumes sulking.

"So, any interesting stories to share, or are we calling it a night?" Corey asks.

"Goodnight," Alexi responds.

"Yeah, I'm shattered." Matt agrees.

"You're all boring." Corey snorts. "Goodnight, then."

Across the room, Jay reaches up to hit the switch positioned just above his bed and the room is plunged into darkness.

Matt's breath hitches as the black presses against his eyes. It's never this pitch at home, with the street lamps and cars and lights from other people's apartments. Even in the middle of the night he can comfortably navigate around his home without having to turn anything on.

Thankfully, it only takes a few moments for his eyes to adjust and his gaze locks on Jay. The boy's still only a vague shape but Matt can make out his wide orbs glimmering in the shard of light seeping in through the high set window. He offers the other teen a small smile, but of course, he has no way to know if it's returned.

Above him, he can hear Corey wriggling under his sheets and decided to follow the American's cue. The mattress is hard and unwelcoming, but Matt's tired enough to not care. He just wants to sleep and escape this waking nightmare.

Pulling the scratchy sheets up over his head, he closes his eyes and allows sleep to take him.