AN: You are valid, and you matter. This is also pretty depressing, so just remember to practice good self-care and know what you can and cannot handle. Love y'all!
The new world will be great. Everyone will live in perfect harmony.
"BULLSHIT!" Christine screamed as she punched the wall of the clean, windowless, camera-less, white room.
Whoever said this new world would be a good thing made no sense to Christine Canigula. To her, this shitty idea had turned the beautiful world that she once knew into a living hell, and she was right in its final circle.
She and her two cell mates, Richard Goranski and Jacob Dillinger, had each crossed one-too-many lines and were now on death row. On their wrists were two marks, a symbol the rule they broke and their serial number.
Christine looked at hers, a blue circle and the number nine hundred and fifteen. She hated that number. She hated this world. She didn't deserve to be here.
She was in the death row holding cell, a long white room lined with bunk beds, with a bathroom on one end and a locked door on the other. Jake was in the bunk next to hers.
She looked at him. His face was crushed, crestfallen eyes sunk into his ocean of tears. He wanted to go home, to see his family, to do anything anywhere else. Instead, he was dying in four days, and all other inmates along with him.
He was caught kissing his roommate Rich, who was taking a shower at the current moment, and both were sentenced to death without a second glance.
Christine was given what the officials call a "quantitative sentence," and that means she had broken multiple small rules that finally lead her to this point, that's what the blue circle was for.
She was known as an actor and playwright, and often put political messages into her works. She had been arrested multiple times for such reasons, and had been on pretty thin ice since her first written work, and she was only fifteen then.
Three years later, the "crime" that finally sent her here was her sexuality, when she was outed by her neighbor as asexual. Not only was being queer a capital offense, refusal to procreate was as well.
Tears rolled down her cheeks, pains of impending death yanking at her heart, as she collapsed onto her bed, softly sobbing until she fell asleep.
This had been her routine for the week she had been here, wake up, cry, eat, cry more, sleep, wake up, eat, shower, cry, repeat. Occasionally she would draw with the pack of colored markers and the pad of paper she had been allowed to bring with her, and maybe even sing something to try to cheer herself up.
However, no matter what she did, it could never lift her spirits from the pit they had fallen into. She was only eighteen, and yet she was dying in just a few days, and her once cheerful heart had already been killed.
***********
Two days later, two couples entered the room, wearing the same white coveralls as Rich, Jake, and Christine.
They introduced themselves as Rosetta, Celeste, and Micheal Mell and Jeremy Heere.
Similar to Rich and Jake, Celeste and Rosetta has pretended to just be roommates, and instead lived as an illegal couple and raised Rosetta's son Micheal together, and Jeremy was Michael's boyfriend.
All four had been busted a couple days ago, when one of Celeste's coworkers had found them out and reported them.
Seeing as they were all stuck here for the next two days and were going to die anyway, the seven of them decided to get to know one another.
**********
Jeremy and Micheal were very much in love.
They wanted to be together for the rest of their lives.
They guessed they got their wish, since the rest of their lives would be two days.
**********
Rich and Jake both felt that they had ruined one another's lives.
They both had so much to live for.
They were so young.
**********
Rosetta and Celeste felt they had failed their son.
A mother should never see her child die
**********
Christine learned this information over the days they were together. They bonded, sang, and celebrated the ends of their lives together.
She wasn't going to let them go down like this.
She had an idea.
She grabbed her markers.
**********
Chloe entered her cell. The last wave of prisoners had died yesterday. She had a week left. As the door locked behind her, bright and colourful letters on the wall caught her eye.
WE'RE NOT SORRY
YOU ARE READING
Musical Oneshots
FanfictionI like musicals and have a list of writing prompts. Let's do this!
