Touch ⇛ Monty Green

Chapter Two

(UNEDITED)

"I assure you,
I'm not put together at all.
Nor am I broken. I'm recovering-
finding the beautiful in the
ugly and stitching it into my life."
-
Voice Recording 1-

"Hello, I'm patient 41 or Nala as they have named me-it's funny because they can not pronounce my given name. Then again I'm only doing this for my loved one I was raised with my entire life. This is my first entry on this v-voice recorder I think it's called, I'll just state the obvious of why I have this. Our deal is all charted on my clipboard specifying that I characterize one of the many mountain men to lead on these so called 'sky people.' Once I have achieved this I'm free from that stupid tiny cage and constantly having needles jammed in my arms. Well until the next time, patient 41 out."
-
So far I have been sprayed down with scorching hot water multiple times and every inch of my body has been scrubbed till the skin is raw, it's normal if you ask-this is decontamination, it goes for everyone here when you are exposed to the outside or locked in a tiny cage covered in your own filth for long exhausting weeks.

Till you get assigned a certain position for something in return like freedom, family member, or a place to stay, overall these people are very complicated.

They give you very little human contact, food, water,but just enough to keep you alive and craving someone to simply say hello.

*Snap!! Snap!!*

"Nala!!! Focus or I won't hesitate to shove you back in there."

Mrs.Heather snapped her fingers in front of my face while her other hand held some kind of 'makeup' brush, I nodded mumbling a yes m'am in her progress of my makeup.

I hate makeup it itches my face so much and all I want to is rake my hands up and down my face errrrr I hate this already, I volunteer as tribute to be reaper food.

She finished up with the weird brush putting it aside back into her boxy box(I had too) or whatever you would like to call it, I barely know what a marshmallow is!

Mrs.Heather dusted her hands together standing up with that fugly grin of hers,

"Nala, I'm not going to say this twice you have exactly fifteen minutes to put your assigned clothes on and go over the script. If I catch you doing anything else of that, I will do what I always do. I'll slap you."

She spoke harshly holding an evil smile-God this woman can be such a thorn- finishing up her stupid speech she pointed to the burgundy pencil dress.

Mrs.Heather says it's close enough to what the others wear, which I consider to be quite a slutty dress even though it reaches ALMOST to the knee. Women I swear.

Once again I mumbled yes ma'am as she continued on her prissy way out the door,

'I hope she gets murderized by one of those grounder peeps while at it'

I thought unbuttoning the disposal gown leaving me in my black under garments.

Quickly and quietly I opened the large wardrobe just for the mirror, shimmying my way into the burgundy dress I fixed the uncomfortable spots and twisted over fabric. (dunno if that made sense lol)

And now comes the hard part, shoes, I hate shoes barefoot is waaaaay more comfortable anyways I can either pick a black pair of flats or heels.
Flats baby, I currently like my face intact.

Shit.

I've only got eight minutes left, I'm such a procrastinator and I'm super nervous but I can cover that up, maybe one of these 'sky people' is cute. What? A girl can dream even when she's been locked in a cage for a couple weeks.