Darn Stupid Brother You Are

Angel's POV

I waved it off, knowing it was a jab to my mom but I didn't want to dwell on it. I was feeling frustrated enough. "I'm worried about him. I don't know what's going on with him, or if he's even okay."

As I spoke, a nagging thought crept into my mind. I was still suspecting the center was being sketchy with their medical practices. But I didn't say that out loud to the others. I wasn't sure if I should share my suspicions, or if I was just being paranoid.

They seemed genuinely concerned for me, but I wasn't sure if I could trust them with my doubts. What if they didn't believe me? What if they thought I was just being crazy?

No, I decided. I wouldn't say anything. Not yet, at least. I needed to be sure before I started spreading accusations.

"So, what's the plan?" Cylan asked, breaking into my thoughts.

I shook my head. "I don't know. I guess I'll just have to wait and find out."

As I finished sharing my story, I noticed Charlotte looking at me with a mixture of curiosity and concern.

We had abandoned our chore, but no one seemed to care. Charlotte's eyes met mine. She hesitated, then diverted her gaze.

"Charlotte, what's your story?" I asked, smiling, trying to sound gentle.

She looked at me again surprised, then pulled out her phone and opened a translation app. She typed something in, and the app spoke out loud.

"I am a foreign student," the app translated. "I came to this country to study. But I made a mistake. I came to the wrong place."

We all looked at each other in shock.

I frowned, confused. "What do you mean?"

Charlotte typed again, and the app translated. "I realized in my second week. I try to tell them, but they no understand. They think I crazy."

Charlotte took a deep breath and continued. "I come from small town in France. I want to study art in America. But I make mistake on application. I end up here."

We listened intently as Charlotte shared her story. She told us about her excitement to study abroad, her dreams of becoming an artist. But when she arrived, she realized something was wrong. The building didn't look like the one in the brochure. The people didn't seem to understand her when she tried to explain.

"I try to explain to doctor," Charlotte said, her voice shaking. "But they no understand me. I try to tell them I'm in wrong place, but they just smile and nod."

She paused, collecting her thoughts.

"Then, they take me to treatment room. They want to give me medicine. But I no need medicine. I just want to go home."

Charlotte's eyes welled up with tears.

"But they no understand. So, I scream. I scream because I don't know what else to do."

My heart went out to her. I couldn't imagine being in a foreign country, alone and scared.

Knowing what I know about this place, I had to ask. "That's awful. And then? What did they do?"

Charlotte's voice dropped to a whisper. "They bring psychiatrist. They think I crazy. They give me more medicine. But I no need medicine. I just want to go home."

We sat in stunned silence, as she kept on crying.

We all pulled her into a group hug.

"That is so messed up, babes" Hande asked, her voice soft.

Finally, Cylan spoke up.

"We'll help you, Charlotte. We'll figure out a way to get you out of here."

We all nodded in agreement.

Charlotte's face lit up. "Really?"

I nodded. "We'll do everything we can."

She was too sweet and innocent to be here. She was the only other person in the center who wasn't meant to be there, just like me. But unlike me, she had a language barrier that made it hard for her to communicate.

And in that moment, we became more than just strangers in a strange place. We were all misfits, stuck in this place for different reasons. But we had found each other, and that's all that mattered.

I noticed Dilada sitting quietly, observing us. She hadn't said a word, just listened intently.

"So, Dilada, how about you?" I asked, trying to sound casual, trying to draw her out. "What brought you here?"

She just shook her head and smiled, her eyes cast downward. Her eyes seemed to hold a thousand unspoken words.

We all exchanged curious glances. How did someone as shy as Dilada end up in a place like this? She seemed so innocent, so pure.

"I don't get it," Hande said, breaking the silence. "You're the last person I'd expect to be here."

Dilada's smile faltered, and she looked away. I sensed a deep sadness in her eyes, something that troubled me. Her silence spoke volumes, hinting at something that was probably hard to hear. "Let's not push her," I said, placing a hand on Dilada's arm. "If she wants to share, she will."

As we continued our conversation, Dilada remained quiet, lost in thought. I caught her gaze drifting off, her eyes clouding over. I wondered what memories she was revisiting, what pain she was reliving. "Dilada, hey, you okay?" I asked, trying to sound gentle.

She nodded, forcing a smile. "Yeah, I'm fine."

But I knew she wasn't. Something in her eyes told me otherwise. A deep sorrow, a hidden pain.

I made a mental note to talk to her later, to see if I could coax her into sharing her secrets. But for now, I let her be, respecting her boundaries. I wasn't nosy like that.

Miss Stefan stormed into the cafeteria, her face red with anger. "What is going on here?" she demanded, her voice loud and furious.

We all froze, caught off guard. We were so engrossed in our conversation that we didn't notice Miss Stefan walking in. But as soon as we saw her, we knew we were in trouble. Her expression was stern, her eyes scanning the room with disapproval.

"We were just taking a break," I said, when no one spoke up.

But Miss Stefan was having none of it. "You're supposed to be cleaning, not socializing. You're here as punishment, not to make friends." She sighed, massaging her forehead. She really looked exhausted but that's what you get for being a bitch to others all the time. "You had one job to do, and as usual, you had to slack off. Can't you do anything right?"

I bristled at her tone, wanting to argue. But before I could say anything, Cylan spoke up.

"We were working, Miss Stefan. We just finished our tasks and were taking a short break."

Miss Stefan's expression turned skeptical. "That's not what it looked like. It looked like you were all chatting and laughing, not cleaning."

Cylan spoke up, her voice firm. "We were working, Miss Stefan. We know why we're here. We don't need you to remind us."

Miss Stefan's anger seemed to intensify. "You'd do well to remember your place. You're here to serve your punishment, not to question me. Get back to work, now."

We quickly scattered, returning to our chores. I shot Miss Stefan an angry glance, but she just glared back at me.

"Back to work, ladies!" She barked, as if we weren't already doing so.

We scrambled to pick up where we left off, trying to cover up our idle chatter. I grabbed a nearby broom, pretending to sweep the floor with renewed vigor. Dilada hastily began wiping down the tables, while Hande and Cylan rushed to finish their tasks.

As we worked, I couldn't help but think about how unfair Miss Stefan was being. We had been working hard all day, and we deserved a short break. But I knew better than to argue with her now. She stood there, and continued to supervise, as we worked in silence.

After we were done, the others dispersed but I stayed behind, because Miss Stefan was looking through some papers in the cafeteria. She must really love her job, that even at a chill place like the cafeteria (even though it was empty), she brought work. I decided to speak with Miss Stefan about Hendrix. It was a long shot, but worth trying.

I approached her, my heart pounding in my chest. Our past encounters had been heated, and I expected this one to be no different. I wasn't even so sure if she'd even want to talk to me. But I had to ask. Chances are, she may know something that I didn't know.

"Miss Stefan, can I talk to you for a minute?" I asked, trying to sound respectful.

She didn't even glance up from the papers on her hand, her expression dismissive. "What is it, Angel?"

I took a deep breath, choosing my words carefully. "I was wondering if my stepbrother, Hendrix, is doing okay. He's been skipping meals in the cafeteria, and I haven't seen him around."

Miss Stefan raised an eyebrow, still not looking at me. "How is that any of my business, Angel?"

I felt angry at her dismissive attitude. "Well, shouldn't it be? You're in charge of the dorms. What if something bad happened to him?"

Miss Stefan finally looked at me, a fake smile plastered on her face. "That would be our problem to handle, not yours. You should stay put and not get involved."

My voice rose. "So you're just going to ignore it? What if he's in trouble?"

Miss Stefan's smile was condescending. "We can handle our own problems, Angel. You don't need to worry about it."

I felt my anger boil over. I opened my mouth to respond, but she cut me off.

"I don't have time for this, Angel. I have work to do."

With that, she turned and walked away, leaving me standing there, frustrated.