ENDURE AND SURVIVE

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TRIGGER WARNING -- S/A IS INCLUDED IN SHORT PART OF THE CHAPTER! I'VE PLACED A WARNING FOR THOSE WHO WANT TO SKIP IT!!!

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TRIGGER WARNING -- S/A IS INCLUDED IN SHORT PART OF THE CHAPTER! I'VE PLACED A WARNING FOR THOSE WHO WANT TO SKIP IT!!!

















IN HER SIXTEEN YEARS OF LIFE, NATASHA LEARNED MANY THINGS ABOUT DEATH.

The first time she experienced death was when she was 1 — watching her mother sacrifice herself for her daughter. However, her relationship with death grew with each year.

She could remember the first time she'd ever violently killed someone; the brutalizations she'd committed. She was 9, having been freshly returned to the red room after 3 years in Ohio.

Girls, who used to be her friends, stared at her with jealousy — shoving, and pushing her around when the guards weren't looking. Girls, who used to look out for each other when one of the guards stared at them for too long.

Of course, they knew that someday they'd end up killing each other, but they all had an agreement with each other.

Never be alone with a guard.

If a girl saw another girl with a guard, they were to walk over and pretend something was happening. The girls, however, stopped doing that for Natasha. If anything, they'd leave the room whenever Natasha was near.

She could remember Tom always keeping an eye out for potential danger, making sure that Natasha would never be alone with a guard. Still, even with all the precautions, it was no good.


(WARNING STARTS HERE!!!)

The smell was the first thing she always remembered. Second, was his smile — his teeth crooked, and lips pulled back into a smarmy smile. Lastly, was his hands.

She could still feel his rough hands on her arms if she remembered hard enough. She could still remember Tom's threats towards the man who could not see or hear him. She could still remember the feeling of the cold wall on her back.

Her heart raced, and her stomach flipped upside down with dread. She could remember how helpless she felt — how her throat closed up on her, and the hairs raised on her body.

She could still feel the roughness of his uniform pressing against her body; could still feel the coolness of his gun digging into her abdomen. She wasn't quite sure how it happened; if Lady Luck was on her side that day or what.

All she could remember was biting down on his cheek once he got low enough, and unhooking his gun from his holster. She didn't even fire any shots, choosing to simply beat the man to death with his own gun.

Then...

Then she could remember the claps; the look of interest on Dreyko's face as he made his way into the small room.

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