182 Days in Greystone's

"THIS is it," My dad's assistant, Mr. Logan, said, packing the car in front of a large building. A sign sat atop the beautiful large black gates which read ' welcome to Greystones.

Greystone is a private institution for mentally disabled or rebellious rich kids, ones that their parents wouldn't want to clean up of after causing a scandal, or kids whose parents don't have time to babysit like me.

My name is Samantha Williams, daughter of Gregory Williams and Rebecca Williams; my parents are the CEO of two multi-billion companies, one in construction and one in entertainment. Why am I here, you would like to know? Well, you have to wait to find out.

I wordlessly stepped out of the car and adjusted what my mum called a ' cute' dress, but for me, it was just an uncomfortable piece of clothing that showed too much skin and could easily be blown away by the wind.

Mr. Logan stepped to my side of the car to bring my suitcases with him, more like struggling with the two bags my mum had spent more time packing than she had spent with her eighteen-year-old daughter. I watched with a lazy eye as the poor man struggled to pull out the handle for the giant bag, ‘cause it had been over-packed with 'cute' dresses curtsey Mrs. Williams.

Putting the innocent man who doesn't deserve my anger out of his misery, I reach out to help. “I have got this, Miss," he huffed out, finally pulling out the handle with a triumphant smile, almost making me smile. Almost.

I tried helping him with one of the two large bags he was holding, but he refused, saying," you needn’t worry yourself, Miss; I’ve got this " I rolled my eyes at him and took one of the bags after adjusting the backpack on my back " you are Mr. Williams assistant, not mine, besides can handle myself" I told him as we got to the school entrance.

A small gate opened automatically, and we entered on foot since there was no car entry rule in the institution. I walked shoulder-high into where I would spend my next six months, smiling approvingly at the beautiful scenery.

The institution lived up to its name as a place for the rich; the compound is adorned with a beautiful and well-kept garden which has a water fountain in its middle; decorating the front of the admission office are flower beds of different kinds, the walls surrounding the institution is wired round probably to keep the kids from jumping out through the fence, I followed Mr. Logan to what would be the Director's office.

We were greeted by an older man who looked to be in his fifties, he smiled at us, showing his pearly white teeth, and he had a stress line and eye bags sitting proudly on his not-so-aged face. He has on a black designer suit with a blue striped dress shirt, a gold wrist watch and a pair of dress shoes to go with it.

Poor men working for the rich must be stressful.

"Hello, I am Mr. Greystone, owner, and director of this wonderful institution," he introduces with a professional welcome smile, which didn't even reach his eye.

I bet he is thinking about dealing with a new stuck-up rich kid. Well, since I don't need babysitting, you wouldn't need to worry about me, Sir...

I was interrupted when I noticed the fake smile had been directed at me, waiting for a handshake. I rolled my eyes without making any effort to take his hands " No need for the fake polite and welcome smile; I hate seeing that more than anything; I'm as thrilled to be here as you are to take in another rich 'troubled' kid, there isn’t any need to impress anyone here. Just get straight to business."

His smile dropped momentarily, replaced by a frown. "That’s more like it, be yourself. No one would get mad," I commented with a genuine smile.

"I apologize for her rudeness; she isn't always like this; she's just annoyed at coming here," Mr. Logan apologized to the old man, who regained his smile immediately, earning a scoff from me "that is alright; I have had to meet a different set of kids after making years of owning and directing the school. Alright, I have her files here; Mrs. Williams instructed me to take away her credit cards so she could call home whenever she needs something. "

Well, Mrs. William should keep dreaming. Hell will freeze over before I ever call home for help until my six months are up. I’ll make sure we both enjoy this little game of ours for the next six months, 182 days.

"Here" I handed him all the credit cards my parents got me, all four of them, including the ones Ethan and Bruce, my two older siblings, gave me for my eighteenth birthday. The older man eyed me suspiciously when I handed him the cards without argument or grumbling. "What? Weren't you asked to take them away? That is all of it; he is my father's PA, so you can ask him" I pointed to Mr. Logan, who nodded in agreement.

The older man still looked suspicious but dropped the topic and placed my cards in a safe behind his office desk.

“I'm surprised you gave up the cards considering what your file says about you," the old man said, returning to us " technically, even if I held onto the cards, I” would still be spending their money, wouldn't I? What would a little call to mama bear do to me? Shorten my life span? I sure hope so.”

The man looked at me and then at Mr. Logan and back at me before sighing and saying.

"Welcome to Greystone," I replied," I already read that at the entrance. No need for repetitions; it’s not cute."