He hit the ground hard, his body thudding against the concrete. The harsh laughter of the other boys echoed through this concrete jungle of a hall like crows mocking their prey.

The boy glanced at one of the guards in the distance, his chin bleeding from grazing the hard floor. They locked eye contact for a moment before the guard swiftly looked away as if he didn’t witness everything that just took place - or maybe he just didn’t give a shit.

“I catch you stealing one of my cigarettes again; you’re dead Jack,” the lanky guy spat angrily as Jack was still lying on the floor, now covered in bruises.

The 16-year-old boy let out a frustrated sigh as the group jogged back up to the basketball court outside.

“Prick…” he exhaled under his breath.

“You know, you really shouldn’t keep messing with Kieran,” complained an irritated voice nearby.

“Great, here comes Mother Theresa,” mumbled Jack, “hi Cole.”

“Say what you will, but you’re the one keep aggravating The Institution’s finest male, Kieran Karter, the great, the glorious!” He threw his arms up in true theatrical fashion. “Or should I say the asshole?” He pondered sarcastically, smirking.

Jack didn’t bother responding. His strawberry blonde hair hung loosely just above his brow, which he softly brushed out of the way and looking into the distance.

Cole lent him a hand which he grabbed as his friend helped him up from his position.

Both boys were familiar with the status quo at this place, almost as much as The Institution itself. They both knew Kieran Karter was the chief’s son and rightful heir to the government-run corporation. The Institution was more like a prison for juveniles than anything else; though officially they were known as a safe haven for all children born after 2030, the year of the economical and social collapse of society.

“Come on,” said Jack, “let’s get out of here before they come back for round two…”

He stormed off, closely followed by Cole in tow as they approached the library - which was about the only place into which Kieran and his hounds wouldn’t be stepping a foot.