Straight in a Crooked World (Teen Fiction/Dystopian)

Chapter 13

***Ashlia

Eerie lights illuminate the dark room in a shadowy, orange glow. Gleaming metal encases us with no way for escape. "Where are we?" I whisper to the girl next to me. The guard behind me, dressed in metallic, hisses a sound to silence me. The frail girl next to me is too frightened to speak, her eyes wide with fear. The drive here was long and treacherous. He drove fast without thought of me in the back. My arms throb with deep bruises. My stomach's scream of hunger echoes off the wall of the tight balcony I, and hundreds of other girls, stand before. The levels to this building seem to go on forever.

The sound of metal working against metal ricochets off the walls, a large figure rises from the lowest level of the encasement. As he steps onto the balcony the large group of girls in front steps back. I gasp, and jump back in fear, almost tripping over the guard behind me. The end of his gun shoves me in the back, pushing me forward. Under the orange glow, the figure is revealed.

His pink skin is stretched tight against his face as he attempts a grimacing smile, "Hello girls." A large rusted metal door rises to the left of him, "welcome home." Forced into a single file line by the metal guards we shuffle into a larger room. The man's eyes search the faces of each and every girl. The sight of fear plastered to their faces seems to give him enjoyment, and stretches his mutilated face tighter. I refuse to give him that satisfaction. When his beady eyes meet mine I stare into them. "You!" he screams. Focusing on appearing unfearful, I don't realize he is referring to me, until a guard pushes me forward. The other girls make a path for the guard and me. As I look between person to person all I can see is sympathy, and gratitude that it was not them that was chosen. "You will be my guinea pig today. I hope you don't mind."

"I might actually mind, slightly."

"Well," as he itches closer to me I can almost taste the smell of dying flesh "I. Don't. Care." He responds through rotting teeth. The guard swings me to the other side of the room. I'm pulled into complete darkness. My knee grinds against metal; flesh slowly peeled off my bone.

"Fuck!" I scream in pain. Another guard, almost identical to the former, pulls me into a chair. Against my resistance, he straps me in a chair. Large straps pull tight against my skin and buckle on either side of me.

"The first event – the chair!" My heart becomes manic as a single finger nail traces along my arm, before reaching my wrist. "Shall I warn you of your impending doom?" Along with a pinch, I can feel a burning liquid being injected into my body.

"No, please." I beg. Tears cause a large lump in my throat. "Please." My bones and tendons seem to move in an awkward pattern under my skin. Braking and rearranging in a strange sequence; yet, I feel no pain. The fever burning through my skin overpowers all of my other senses, leaving only my hearing intact. Red and orange lines, emerging from a dark red circle in the middle of my palm trace my veins. My torturer cackles with entertainment. Tears of pain well in my eyes. My screams meet the others, and echo off the thin rusty tin walls in a strange symphony of agony.

As quickly as it began, the torture subsides and is replaced with a fit of shakes. "Jason." I stutter.

"What was that?" He asks, bringing his disfigured ear closer to my chapped bleeding lips.

"Get me out of here!" In mock surprise, he jumps back.

"Oh, is that what you want pretty girl?" He laughs."Don't worry, you won't have to worry. It'll all be over soon." I dig my vibrating fingers into the thick leather of this torture chair. My personal guard slash torture tour guide unlatches me from my chair. The fate I'm meeting now is my own fault. This is what I deserve for loving Jason. I shouldn't have talked to him that night. I shouldn't have taken him to my house – to my room, but I put my own wants first.

"I'm sorry!" I scream. I scream as loud as I can. For Jason. For me. For Rainey. For my daddy. My voice full of impotent fury, tears running unchecked down my face. Around me is only silence, as the guards and girls watch. "I'm...S-Sorry..." My whispered apology is the only sound within the silence. I repeat it over and over again, unable to stop the tears that fall to the floor. "I'm sorry...I'm sorry...I'm sorry...I'm sorry...I'm sorry...."

"You're going to make more work for my friend here." His venomous voice cackles. "Pick her up." He orders. With inhumanly large hands, the monster drags me into a darker darkness. "I don't like apologies."