Through Strained Glass

"Stars Can't Shine Without Darkness"

"State your name." I heard through the static of the speaker.

"Kamryn."

"Age?"

"16"

"Offense?"

"Wrath."

"Number?"

"C 62."

On went the flat, monotone voice, my hoarse one word replies, and the never-ending static. Until:

"Cleared. Preparations in progress."

More static, then the speaker shut off, and all was silent again. I sat on the cold, white floor, finishing braiding my unruly mess of long, curly, mahogany-blonde hair, as I awaited my breakfast. I jumped at a loud, thundering noise, and saw my meal slide in through a crack under the gray door. After years of being locked up here, I still couldn't get used to the sudden loud rumbles.

They addressed me as Prisoner C 62. In other words, I was a lab rat to them. Stuck in the maze, trying to find the cheese. Only in this case, there was no cheese. Just an endless maze with lies awaiting at every turn.

I stared down at my breakfast, hoping that if I stared long enough, intensely enough, the pile of mush would transform into a platter of pancakes drenched in sweet maple syrup, topped with powdered sugar and freshly sliced strawberries. I shook my head, urging myself to stop. That was a luxury long gone for me.

I shook my worn, leather jacket off, and out tumbled my secret dagger, revealing itself to the world with a thud. My world, that is, which consists of gray walls, gray ceiling, gray floor, for almost as long as I can remember. Gray. Such a gloomy, hopeless, emotionless color, perfectly describing both myself and my tiny room. I closed my eyes, not for the first time feeling overwhelmed and disgusted with the color.

The room is barren, short of a hard, wooden bed with no mattress and a small bedside table. I have no belongings, besides my dagger, a handful of money, and the clothes on my back. Years of living miserably in this cramped room have taught me not to speak even a single word out loud. I'm constantly haunted, constantly reminded of the blood-curdling screams and then the sudden, terrifying silence that could only mean one thing of victims who committed one small crime - talking. Instead I fantasize. Fantasize about my family, my dreams, and even a wedding I know I'll never have.

Days after days. Weeks after weeks. Years after years. I scratch at the walls, despite my tons of previous efforts, as shown in the barely dented wall. Was there a hurricane right outside at this very moment? Or maybe even a forest fire? Or what if this room is actually insaide a glacier? I laughed in my head, as I was too weak to do it out loud. It any case, I would never know. Excitement and action here was only a dream. For years there was nothing but sleeping, eating, and pointlessly thinking. Nothing more, nothing less.

Reluctantly, I picked up my fork, forcing myself to gulp down the food, if you could even call it that. When I was done, I slumped back against the wall, turning the knife in my hand out of habit, wondering for the millionth time why the government imprisoned me here. Suddenly, a sense of uneasiness washed over me, followed by a too familiar shriek. I gulped, pondering over who's innocent life was now ripped apart, literally. One more person, with a whole life ahead of them, with feelings and emotions like us all, was now gone from the face of the earth. Forever. I just prayed I wouldn't be next.

As if on cue, my heavily rusted door now creaked open with a kick from the outside. My eyes widened in terror as I realized what had happened. I snapped out of my shock and jumped in terror, only to instantly scoot behind my bed for protection while biting the inside of my cheek. Through the slightly ajar door, came the barrel of a gun, searching the room, and finally landing it's gaze on me. I almost laughed in hysterics. Insanity had stopped by for a visit and was now gripping me by the shoulders. In my burst of deliria, accepting of the fact that my life could be over in a few short seconds, all I could think of when my eyes registered that gun was

I never noticed how rusty those hinges on the door are...

I slapped myself hard, attempting to get out of my trance. The word dagger was spinning through my head, like my brain was begging me to get a grip, but the word was meaningless to in my mental state, as I my head spun, seemingly trying to whisk me away into a dark world of unconsciousness.

No. I willed, focused on the gun as a bile taste rose in my throat. After a few interminable seconds, the door swung as the way open, revealing a figure. I swiveled my head over the bed for a better look, and instantly regretted it. I slouched onto the floor, on the verge of passing out as a deep and strangely calm voice commanded "Freeze."

The gun locked into place and before the realization hit me, a bullet was flying. Time seemed to pass in slow motion. I got the faintest feeling of deja vu as the bullet neared the the spot between my eyes. It hit, splattering blood, but I was numb to the pain. I only stared and stared, until at last I was staring into darkness. I blacked out with only a single thought.

"A boy just shot me."

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Don't worry, it's not over just yet!

Anyway this was more or less my first time writing a complete chapter.

Yeah it's not much and I'm not too proud of it but, I tried :/

If you have any feedback, I'd love to hear it!

I'll be continuing the story but no promises on how long it'll take lol