Is this the life you chose yourself, or just how it ended up? Is that the yard you pictured when you closed your eyes and dreamed of children in the grass running through the sprinklers? Being somebody's wife, or were you living in another life?
(Wi...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
━━━━༺❀༻━━━━
In the seven years since Anastasia arrived at the facility, she became more and more okay with staring at the blank concrete walls.
If she was quiet, they didn't hurt her any more than they already had. If she didn't speak when asked a question, they weren't against hurting a child.
A fact that had been proven to Anastasia time and time again.
They were conditioning her to become the perfect asset, and when the time would come, they'd put her to the ultimate test. That would determine how her training would continue.
It was the summer of 2004. Anastasia's HYDRA issued sweatpants and crewneck sweatshirts had been replaced by tank tops and shorts — also HYDRA issued.
She was finishing up her class assignments — they insisted she do school work even during the summer, so she'd be ahead of the other students her age (she was set to graduate schooling before her sixteenth birthday) — when there was the sound of keys jingling outside of her cell.
"Today's your lucky day, soldier." The man spoke. Anastasia looked up from her school work.
"It is?" She questioned lowly, giving her superior her undivided attention.
"You're being upgraded. Pierce says you've behaved well enough to get a better bed. Says if you keep up the good work, you'll be upgraded to a real room on one of the upper levels in no time. . . It's also time for your 5 pm training session."
"Yes sir."
━━━━༺❀༻━━━━
When Anastasia returned back to her cell at half past seven, the two pallets were replaced by an actual bed frame and the old worn mattress had been replaced with a new one.
On the small desk they gave her for school, sat her tray of dinner. It looked more edible than it usually did, and it even smelled decent.
She hesitated taking a bite, but once she took the first one, she was glad she did. It certainly wasn't her mother's cooking, but it was the best thing she had eaten in seven years.
The mashed potatoes were runny and the bread was soggy from the gravy, the turkey was a tad dry, but she couldn't complain.
After she finished eating, she was taken to the showers by her handler and allowed an extra ten minutes to wash her hair. Immediately after her shower, Anastasia returned to her cell and climbed into bed.
It was comfortable, and so she attempted to fall asleep, however she couldn't. After sleeping on a bad one for years, the new one was too soft.
Too comfortable.
But she wasn't about to complain about it. It wasn't wise to complain, especially when gifted something by a higher up. The important thing to remember was 'if they can gift it, they can take it away'.
They'd proven it in the past that they could and would if they were provoked.
They saw giving their prisoners basic human necessities as being 'kind', all while they were just providing what most others already had.
Anastasia sighed into the pillow and closed her eyes, the red light from the hallway soothing her in a way that was unknown to her.
If she managed to get any sleep, it would be a miracle.
She pulled the blanket up to her chin and forced her mind to shut down so she could at least get some rest. It was harder than it seemed to be, but she managed to fall into a dreamless sleep.
