FREE.

If you miss this equation one more time, I’ll make you do them all from the top.

You never truly appreciate your autonomy until it’s taken from you.

How did you fumble that problem? You’ve finished fifteen just like it. Are you trying to let everyone down?

This is my fifth week spent at home. Energy drinks and empty plates line my bedroom floor. A thick layer of dust settles over my blinds. Dirty laundry sits in the corner, collecting stench as well as height. Mom came in the other day and said the sight alone was nauseating, but she doesn’t understand. She can’t see the man patrolling the halls, locking me in my room, and making sure every moment I’m not attending school is spent preparing for tomorrow's test.

Work faster. At this rate, you’ll be the last to finish, if you finish at all.

That’s the Warden. He’s been a part of my life for as long as I can remember, but what once was a local nuisance has turned into a dictator.

That five looks like an S. If Ms. Marcy misreads it, she may mark you off. Fix it.

I can’t recall how he rose to power, but it must have happened after the teachers labeled me gifted. Extra homework, extra expectations, and extra stress followed, but I carried on, and everyone showered me with praise because of it. My classes have only grown tougher over the years, but the Warden promises all the time spent worrying and rereading and chastising myself will be worth it, as long as I keep up perfection.

The sun’s up.

Damn it. Was I awake all night again? What if I crash during the exam? I chug the half-empty energy drink sitting on my desk. Judging by how flat it is, it’s been there a while, but I’ll have to hope the caffeine will power through. I throw on a different shirt, not bothering to brush my hair or change my jeans, and dash out the door.

You cannot let everyone see how pathetic you really are.

I remember when driving to school was fun. My friends and I would carpool and take turns blasting our favorite jams with the windows down. But that was months ago. Nowadays, the only thing keeping me company are the Warden’s remarks.

Look at the time. If you don’t hurry up, you’re going to be late.

Even with my speeding, I scramble to homeroom or risk being marked tardy. My friends are already inside, chatting about the latest sleepover or football game. Walking past, they glance at me. I want to reach out. I want to tell them I'm not ignoring them on purpose. I want to talk about the Warden and explain how he’s shackled me to my desk.

They won’t understand, you know they won’t. Don’t cause more trouble than you’re worth.

I pass them by without another thought, just as the Warden commands.

Remember, no one loves a failure.

Homeroom comes and goes, and now it’s time for what the Warden has been training me for and what I fear the most: math class.

If you ruin this, I won’t let you forget it. There will be no hope, no recovery, nothing.

I sit in my seat, shaking. Weeks of studying and I still feel wholly unprepared. Math is my worst subject, always has been. Is the caffeine wearing off? Oh god, I can't do this. I can’t think.

“Sweetheart, is everything alright? You look unwell.”

It's Ms. Marcy. She towers over my seat with concern on her face, the dreaded exam held tightly in her hands.

Tell her you’re okay.

I hate lying to people, I really do, but I can't risk ruining things now.

“I’m fine, just… excited to ace this test.”

What a horrible lie.

Ms. Marcy seems to buy it though, as she giggles and places the exam face down on my desk.

“Should’ve known, you are one of my top students, after all.”

If only she knew what I sacrificed to be one. Whatever, the Warden said as long as I listened to him I'd succeed, so how bad can this possibly be? When Ms. Marcy sits, I pick up my well-worn pencil and turn over the first paper.

Oh.

Oh no.

Blank. My mind’s completely blank. I can't think of anything. Even the Warden is silent. My heart won't stop pounding. The room is spinning. I'm going to fail. Every harsh word the Warden hurled at me. Every night spent doing nothing but pouring over the same books and equations. None of it matters. I'm. Going. To. Fail.

“Jaden.”

A soft hand grabs hold of mine. It’s my friend, Chris. Admittedly we’re not the closest, only hanging out alone a handful of times, but when I look into his eyes, I see something I’ve never seen before: another Warden. Yet this one isn’t barking equations or patrolling a cell. Instead, she’s the one behind bars, leaving Chris liberated and in charge.

“It’s going to be okay.”

Just like that, the chains around my body fracture under his words.

He’s lying.

I’m not sure I believe you.

Chris is a C student at best. If your grades sink, you’ll lose the only thing making you worthwhile.

Chris may get C’s, but he has puzzle nights with his Grandmother, stays after school to clean up, and regularly volunteers at a soup kitchen. Everyone loves him, and none of it is tied to how many questions he gets right on his homework. Meeting his gaze once more, I watch his Warden yank at her chains, but regardless of how she pushes or pulls, the binds stay strong. I wonder if, in the far future, my Warden could be just as restrained.

“No talking during the test, please.”

I mouth thanks to Chris, and he nods before returning to his paper. Looking down at my own, many problems remain foreign, but the pressure to know them all isn’t nearly as intense.

This is ridiculous. Do you know what your friends will think? Your parents? You should be-

No.

I exhale and focus on the first question. For the first time in my life, I shut the Warden out.

The timer rings, so I turn over my exam and deliver it to Ms. Marcy. If I had to guess, I probably got a C-. Admittedly not ideal, but if I hadn’t been neglecting myself I'm sure it would’ve gone much better.

My next few classes are a blur. The Warden does all he can to regain control, almost succeeding in the process, but when I think back to Chris, I remember the radical peace he emitted, and it gives me the strength to fight. It’s funny, with how much the Warden had talked up failing, you’d think it’d kill me, and yet, here I am: exhausted, but alive.

Come lunch, I find Chris and the others gathered around our table. He gestures me over, and instead of sitting alone like usual, I drop my backpack and take my rightful place among them.

“Jaden???” Corrine exclaims.

Parker eyes me up and down, “Geez, dude, you look terrible.”

I laugh. “Yeah. I know.”

“Glad you could make it,” Chris says. “How do you think the test went?”

I bite into my pizza. School lunch has never tasted so delicious.

“By my standards, absolutely terrible.”

Corrine stares at me, her eyes wide. “How are you coping?...”

“One average grade won’t ruin me,” I say with a shrug. “No point in beating myself up about it, right?”

Chris beams with joy. “You have no idea how happy I am to hear that.”

Looking at him, I can’t help but smile. My fight against the Warden isn’t over. Hell, it’s hardly begun. But if the hope in Chris’ eyes means anything, it’s that my chains are not permanent, and one day, I will be free.