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I Am A Captive

C.Kapela 2012 – I am a Captive I can still remember the way the humid air felt against my skin as I stared at the white gated facility that would house me for months and haunt me for years.   I can still recall my hand shaking as I frantically inhaled the last few drags of […]

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Before Tranquility Bay

Stories from Before Tranquility Bay – © C.Kapela It seems to be such a common theme among parents who sent their kids to programs to state, “But there was no other option!” Looking back at my life, I am in no way guilt-free. I made poor decisions and experimented with things at an earlier age […]

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Memoir Excerpt – Part 5

Memoir Excerpt – C. Kapela © It would take me a full ten days before I became somewhat “adjusted” to the program.  Within my first week, I was sent to study hall two more times, once for accidentally speaking to another Level One when I asked through the bathroom door if there was anyone inside and […]

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Memoir Excerpt – Part Four

C. Kapela © – Memoir Excerpt Study hall was held in a small room towards the back of the complex.  It appeared to have at one time been a small one bedroom suite when the facility was still a hotel.  Now, its linoleum floor was aged and dirty.  Through a crack in the door, I could […]

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Memoir Excerpt – Part Three

Memoir Excerpt – C. Kapela © We had another half-hour on the field before group therapy.  As we walked our laps silently, I thought about what treatment had meant to me before Tranquility Bay.  My father used to work in the juvenile justice system and my mother suffered from severe mood disorders and anxiety.  They believed […]

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Memoir Excerpt – Part Two

Memoir Excerpt – C. Kapela © Ms. B unlocked a white wooden shed filled with tennis shoes. Most were deteriorated and rotten from weathering too many humid summers.  I saw my own and all I could think about was home.  I rarely wore sneakers but had purchased these a month before. They were still pristine, having […]

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Memoir Excerpt

© Chelsea Kapela – Excerpt from Upcoming Memoir When I arrived, instead of my typical private session, my parents were both there.  The social worker shut the door.  Everyone was crying.  I knew what was happening, what was next.  They wanted me to talk about my rape.  I refused.  The counselor pulled out a brochure […]

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