Forgetting by: Tea Mendenhall

Forgetting
It was a place I wish not to go. A place where it was cold enough that I could see my breath and the people wore orange jumpsuits that made them look like a demented pumpkin or an anorexic pumpkin- the food might have moved. It was a place where the floor was dirty and cold with unknown moving insects.
“This way.” said the guard.
We were there because a family member was there. Sometimes I wish I was never there. I heard the inmates yell and scream. It was really creepy. When I was there, there was a clear wall between me and the person I was visiting. When we talked, there were guards everywhere and a telephone thing.
We talked about when she would get out. How long she would be in there. I didn’t talk much. I didn’t have anything to say to her. I was to mad, to sad, to upset to say anything. She said she loved. I just nod my head. I think she was upset about it.
When we left, we had guards escort us, I felt like a criminal.” Why didn’t you talk much.” my sister asked. I just shrugged. I didn’t feel like answering. Why do they care? I thought to myself. On the way home, my dad kept talking about it. Dude. Give it a rest. I thought. I still don’t know why he over reacted. After that, my family hasn’t been the same since. Sometimes at night, I replay that day. She tried to apologize. I kind of forgive her. Why did this happen? I ask myself that everyday. Today, she hasn’t been there for over 2 years. I’m really happy about that. I still haven’t answered my sister’s question. I wonder if she even remembers the question. Me and my family wish she never went there.