I ran my fingers over my gray overalls, feeling the numbers 1908. That was me...#1908. Funny how back then I thought that being called a number was normal. Funny how I thought anything on Cosima was "normal".
Cosima was torture, to say the least. Lord Kagan ruled Cosima. He loved wanted everything and everyone to be neat, balanced, and full of order.
Everyone was given a number and a schedule at birth. Your number represented you. It was basically the only thing they couldn't take away from you. Your schedule controlled your life. Some of the unfortunate Cosims (or as you say "people") got very unlucky schedules. Such as having to work before the heat ("sun") comes up, or having your one waste break in the middle of the night. Fortunately for me, I had a particularly lucky schedule.
#1908
1st bell- Eat
2nd bell- Work
3rd bell- Waste break
4th bell- Work
5th bell- Home
6th bell- Sleep
7th bell- Wake
I sighed as I picked up my bag. This light bag had all that I've ever owned. I crawled through the tunnel and sat in the white leather chair.
Here goes nothing.
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Entering a new book for the #JustWriteIt, the #EarthLove edition!
Why I took this challenge...I have no idea.
Writing a 10,000+ word story in a MONTH.
Wish me luck.
-H
YOU ARE READING
Inhabitant
Teen FictionInhabitant #1908 has lived on Cosima for her whole life. On Cosima, everybody follows the code of conduct and everybody is the same. The same faded gray overalls, the same beige boots, the same routine , the same haircut, and the same food everyday...
