Hildezart had tears in his eyes. A low growl erupted in his throat. Then he heard the door screech open. Light poured into the van and Hildezart had to squint to see. 'Out. Stand single file, we're here..' He didn't need to be told twice, and stood up. Before he walked out he stared at the back of the van, remembering the feeling of being free even if he was in handcuffs.
After half of them was out, Hildezart exited also. He stood at the front of the line, looking down it to see all the others. Two other boys, and three girls. He silently wondered if they were, also, here for the same thing. But then he caught sight of the sign, Murder Therapy Center For Teens. He trembled, They were labeling him as a murderer? But he had only accidentally killed his mom, but it wasn't intentional. Could that still be murder?
He sighed, and saw the the Police had a gun. Ignoring the rude comment one of the girls made, he focused on the two people who walked outside. Hildezart's mind scrolled to the thought of running away, but what would happen if he did? Surely that'd put him in a much worse situation, possibly land him in jail. Tears welled up in his eyes, and spilled over onto his shirt. He uncomfortably shifted his hands, causing the skin to break. Sticky blood dripped onto the ground, he hid his hands not wanting to be treated, or seen.