Crap. 
I worked so hard to look my best, but my sweat keeps trickling, making my face flushed, hair wet, and skin smell. 
Not today.  Not today.  You need to be perfect.
It has been 391 days since we met; 248 since we have spoken; and ever since I have never stopped thinking about him.  The way he made me crumble at just one look.  The way my body tingled with electricity at only the graze of a hand.  His eyes.  Those warm brown eyes.  My breathing slowed, my stomach untied itself, my hands stopped shaking, and in that moment, I was calm for the first time in so long.
SCREEECH.  My body flings forward as the van suddenly stops.  My limbs are constrained and I fly uncontrollably, my hair whipping around my face and sticking to the sweat.  Blood is pumping from the adrenaline and my head struggles to look up, only to realize my body landed half on top of Tyler sitting next to me.  His familiar scowl welcomes my embarrassed red as I push myself up with the little stability I own.  Braden looks at Tyler then me, and sends a small smile as if for comfort.  Braden and Tyler.  The only two people that I have gotten to know over the course of these past couple months.
I’m going to mess this all up.  They are going to hate me.  It happens every time.  But I can’t let that happen, not again. 
The doors finally open and the sunlight invades, forcing my eyes to squint and the sweat to run harder.  Braden gets up first, and Tyler grabs my arm as he leads me out the car.  With every step there is a rattle and clank, rattle and clank.  I feel as though I am dragging my own body, and it is getting heavier with every step.  The sweat drips from the top of my lip, and I can taste the salt on my tongue.  The anxiety, the heat, it all melds together to make me sick to my stomach.  
The white marble palace lays before us.  As we go in through the back door, the magic of air conditioning once again amazes me.  The more we walk, my legs stop sticking to my loose clothes, my scalp starts to dry, and I am able to breathe just a little easier.  I move to fix my hair and face only to stiffen as I remember I don’t have any range of movement, no freedom of my own.  I look at Tyler, who continues to pull me along.  Very weakly I ask, “Do I look okay?”  He stops, stares at my face, and rolls his eyes before beginning to walk again.  I put my head down.
You’re so f***ing pathetic. 
We keep walking down the marble hallways.  I know there are other halls that everyone else gets to walk through, where there are other people to see.  It has been so long since I have seen a smile from an unfamiliar face.  I miss strangers. 
We keep walking, Tyler clutching my arm so hard that a bruise has to be forming on the inside of my elbow.  At every door, I have to stop, wait for Braden to swipe the card, hear the beep, then continue the procession.  Every door opened, another barrier between him and I is destroyed. 
As we continue moving my mind runs through the possibilities of our reunion.  My body tightens.  My palms moisten.  My insides swirl.  My legs start to shake.  My lungs decide to stop working correctly and I am struggling for a decent breath.
Suddenly, we stop in front of a pair of large oak doors.  So regal.  Closed and tall.  Confident and stable.  Braden turns to me.  His face softens, but the concern in his eyes remains.  Warmly, yet with a form of question under his words, he states, “We’re here”.   My heart stops.
We’ve practiced; we’ve gone through this before.  You’re gonna to be okay.  You’re gonna prove them all wrong.  You might be crazy, but you aren’t insane.
I close my eyes. Breathe in deep.  Exhale slow.  Lift my lids.  And put on a smile.  A weak tilt of the lips, but a smile none-the-less.  I meet his face with my green, scared eyes and give a nod.  Braden turns the golden handle, and as soon as it opens, Tyler drags me through.
A marbled white, matching the rest of the building, decorates the floor which flows before me.  Long sets of benches line either side of an aisle behind a short, gated section in the front.  The seats are filled with curious eyes and anticipating hearts.  The two tables in the front seat the suited men and before them is the one in charge, the one in power.  His long dark robe shows his authority, his stern eyes foreshadow his relentlessness.  I immediately become so much more aware of my rattling and clanging.  The silence of the room makes the sounds more distinct, more disruptive, more dominant.  My smile struggles to remain surfaced, and I can feel my face grow warm.  Once we begin walking down the short aisle, the wide eyes stare to catch a good long look, a judgmental sentence in their heads.
My eyes start to sting and I bat my eyelashes to stop the tears from dribbling down my cheeks.  When I can finally lift my head, my eyes squint to focus on the beautiful boy at the right table in the front.  Those eyes.  Those eyes.  My feet freeze and my throat chokes a sharp gasp.  “Jacob”, I whisper.
Tyler tries to pull me along, his jaw clenched and seemingly angry at my emotion.  All of those feelings, suppressed for too long, the sadness, loneliness, anger, they all spill over in that moment.  My eyes turn to fury as I elbow him and then kick with the little movement I can make, temporarily getting free from his grip.  Clawing my shoulder, he turns me around, but I throw a punch, full of everything I have stifled for these long months.  I move as fast as I can with the weight dragging me back.  All I can see is Jacob.  I scream his name as I try to sprint, my muscles aching as they deny me.  But as I get closer, his eyes change. 
Then, I am on the ground.  I try to break my fall, but my hands couldn’t break free of the wrought iron manacles.  As my body slams onto the cold marble, the chain connected to my waist digs into my bruised hips.  I grunt in pain and yelp in shock, but Braden keeps his weight atop me.
Everything turns to chaos.  So much screaming.  All the women and men are shouting; some hiding in the pews, other looking as though they are ready to sprint to the door.  Braden is yelling at Tyler, and I am already crying from the guilt and the disappointment.
It’s all your fault.  You got Tyler into trouble.  You frightened all these people.  You made a scene. You failed.
I strain my neck enough to gasp for air and briefly calm my suffocated lungs.  Jacob has been pushed to the side by a tall, hulky man in blue, pointing a weapon right at me.  As I turn my head even more, all I can see are more blue shirts and black pistols.  My head is swarming trying to make sense, but I can barely breathe under Braden’s weight.  There is too much noise.  I am hauled to my feet, but the chains around my ankles keep making me stumble.  From the tackle, my clothes are wrinkled and hair is ruffled.  I don’t want Jacob to see me like this.  Not looking like a mess. Not being dragged away. 
Braden says under his breath, “I knew she wasn’t ready”.
“She could never be ready.  Insane b****.”  Tyler rubs his side, and his mouth is bleeding.
As they drag me out, I hear banging and the intervals are filled with a loud, yet calmed, command of “Order!”
Braden and Tyler are both holding my elbows on either side, while the other blue clothed men either lead the way or follow closely.  They keep pulling me faster, making the chains from my waist to my ankles clang against my shins and the cuffs around my hands chafe my wrists.  The doors open one by one, the same pathways we went through only moments ago.  Before I ruined everything.
Rattle clank, rattle clank, rattle clank.  My breathing is shallow, and the tears keep escaping no matter how hard I try to stop them.  I instinctively try to raise my hand and wipe the salty water away, but I can’t because of the chains and Tyler’s grip.  My lungs ache with strangled sobs, a muffled whimper betrays me.  I wanted to prove to him, to Braden, to all of them that I was strong.  Braden turns to look at me, his eyes sad, and hair ruffled from the wrestle I put him through.
I disappointed him.
A soft whisper escapes my shaking lips, “I didn’t get to say goodbye.”  Tyler stops.  Anger flashes across his features as he turns to me and slaps my cheek with the back of his hand, forcing my throat to let out a small scream in pain, and making my tears run harder. 
“Like hell you would get to say goodbye”, he spat at me, with acid flying from his lips.
“Crazy b****; you don’t deserve anything, f***ing an---“
Braden lets go of me, and slams Tyler against the wall. I don’t know what to do. The black pistols don’t know where to point – at the fighting guards, or the crazy girl.  We all just stare dumbly.
“What the hell is wrong with you?!”
Furious, Braden keeps one hand around Tyler’s neck and the other against the wall.  For the first time, I see Tyler in a state of weakness.  He tries to put on a strong façade, but in that moment he is just as fragile me. 
When Tyler lets out a strangled breath, Braden comes out of his trance and looks at his partner in shock.  His breathing slows and his mouth opens in what seems to be a mumbled apology.  He looks down, removes his hands, turns to me, and pulls my arm lightly as he walks us the rest of the way to the waiting van, keeping his eyes down as we go. 
I am still dumbfounded and so confused, I can’t help but stare at him.  As we near the vehicle, he helps me in and sits me down before returning to his usual spot across from me.  Tyler begins to make his way towards us, but one glare from Braden turns him around in a huff as he gets into one of the surrounding cop cars.
The van grumbles, making the seats vibrate and my body shake up and down, but I can’t look away from Braden.  He looks up, and catches my eyes on his face.  I move to put my head down, and pretend I wasn’t looking, but he reaches over and wraps his strong calloused fingers around my clamped wrists.
We are speeding off, back to my cell.  Only God knows how long I’ll stay in there, or if I will ever get out.  I’ve always dreamed of escaping, of being back in the world.  I’ve always imagined the day I would get better, completely better.  But now, all I can think about, all I can envision, is the look in Jacob’s eyes as I was pulled away.  Fear.  And s***, maybe I should be scared of myself too.