Subject Me To Life [Book One] ✔️ *EDITING*

Chapter Seventeen

*Not edited* Not proofread*

Chapter 17– Enjoy the show:

"Where are they taking us?" A whisper is heard from beside me, the voice small and evidently scared. There's a tremor to her tone that I'm becoming accustomed to— everyone seems to have that slight shake to their words when they speak.

I shake my head, not displaying the emotion I feel. "No sé, pero cállate," I whisper back harshly, my anger doing nothing to soothe the girl beside me as she shivers from the cold of the bleak white corridors.

We continue to walk in single file down the hallway silently, exchanging no more words. My gut twists in fear and anxiety, my hands that are buried deep inside the pocket of my army trousers are shaking so viciously that I have to curl them into tight fists to make them stop.

All of the sudden the sound of fifty-three pairs of footsteps, including the guards, come to an abrupt halt. The single red light above the door we stop in front of glows a neon green as a loud buzz echoes through the empty hall.

We enter the room, all shuffling in to the tight-nit space as best we can, shoulders bumping shoulders, elbows nudging ribcage's. The air in the room seems to disappear and it's clear people are finding it hard to breathe. The lightbulb that hovers above us by a flimsy wire does nothing to brighten the suffocating room.

Curious whispers and questioning mutters fill the space we're trapped in, confused as to what's going on, until they're silenced by one of the head guards. We're instructed to face forward, where a rectangular glass panel is positioned in the middle of the wall.

I can't quite work out what it is— a mirror or a window— but when I look into it, I can see my reflection staring back at me, although  foggy and unfocused. If I look close enough, I can see a certain darkness behind it, however my eyes refocus on the image mirroring my twelve year old self squinting nervously at the glass rectangle, and all the other scared faces it reflects back almost mockingly.

Once everyone has quieted down, the single light dangling from the ceiling flickered off, once again causing the silent room to arise in hushed whispers that seem like screams in the eerie quietness that surrounds us for those split seconds.

I close my eyes, breathing in and out. I'm not going to get worked up like everyone else. They're stupid if they think they can act this weak and get away with it...

... or maybe they're smart.

The weaker and more useless they appear to be, the more likely the guards are to get rid of them; the more likely they are to escape this place.

It's true that the only way out is death, but it's far better than where we are; what we are made to do, who we are made to be.

Another buzz sounds, silencing everyone once again as they stand too terrified to utter another word as a blinding light beams from behind the glass panel. I wince away from the brightness that catches me off-guard before adjusting to the light.

"Oh my God," the girl beside me sobs under her breath at the sight before her.

He's only young, looks to be around nine years old, though I can never really be sure. We aren't told the exact date of our births, just the year — if we're lucky, we're told what month.

"Que's esto?" I shout at one of the Hispanic guards, my voice coming out strong and confident, the underlying anger not going unnoticed by anyone. "Que está pasando?"