Rockmount Brat Camp
Rockmount Brat Camp My train rattled along on it’s tracks with no more choice of where it was going than I did. My head rested against the cool glass of my cabin window, rain lashing the glass, blurring the world outside my window. “A few more hours kid, then you’re no longer my problem” came the gravely bark of my guard, Wilson, a dog of a man, his jowls quivered as he ripped in to a sandwich. “See this is why this country is going to shit” he growled in between bites, “some little shit like you who should be locked up right now gets sent to some fancy shmancy ‘correctional school’!” his last sentence was accompanied by chunks of chewed sandwich flying from his mouth. I looked at him and then just turned back …