8 hours and 14 minutes until Extermination

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I sit and stare at the opposite concrete wall, fully dressed and waiting. My cell is in almost complete darkness, the only light filtering in from the bars at the top of the door. The light is weak and tinged blue from the fluorescent electric lightbulbs from which they emit. It's cold and uncomfortable sitting wedged between the rough wall and the concrete floor but I don't trust myself to stay awake lying on the mattress, even if it's thin, hardened and suspiciously stained. Since it is the only place I am allowed to rest, lying there might trick my brain into drowsiness, a drowsiness I cannot afford.

However, today I know there will be no drowsiness and I probably could trust myself to relieve my aching joints by lying on the mattress but I cannot will myself to do this. This would be breaking a routine, a routine so impeccably perfected from the countless days of following orders set by myself and others. Breaking the routine would mean admitting that today was different and I am determined to treat this day like any other, hence suppressing any emotions that may be pushing to come forth.

But the tell-tale sobbing of others outside my cell is already illuminating exactly how different today is. The raspy and echoing sounds of children crying pierce the usually dusty and hopeless silence. The crying is accompanied by others choking back their own tears. I try to feel sorry for these kids but I can't. I do not understand. If I'm able to suppress my own emotions and distress, why can't they? Don't they realize it'll make it worst? Perhaps not. Maybe even finally admitting just how shitty everything is offers some form of comfort to them.

I try for a moment, I really do. I try to think about what faces me, what I've left behind and what today really is. I see her face in my mind's eye and my chest tightens uncomfortably. Stop, it tells me, stop thinking about her before you hurt yourself. My breathing quickens and I begin to panic, imagining her knowing exactly what today means for me. But it's all too painful and I quickly banish any thoughts of her from my mind. Instead, I focus on my breathing, pacing it and regaining control until it's once again regular. Maybe I am the weak one, for not being able to acknowledge and take the pain. But it's worked for me this long, why ruin it today?

I sit and wait, listening to cries of others, unable to face my own demons.

Until the heavy cell door swings open with the protesting shriek of metal against concrete.

Today has officially begun.

My last day alive has begun.

I hope you enjoyed this first part of "Prisoner 0004C"!
Just so everyone knows, chapter length will vary dramatically on what is happening at the time in the story, so don't worry about the especially short chapters, longer ones will follow I promise.
Thanks again for your time
-Laura xx

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