Short Story Trashbin

Flagged ◆ Based off of The Program

First of all, please check out the book Facade by starvinglimbs, also based off of The Program. She is an incredible writer, and my character who is mentioned in this short story, Maddie Stark, is included in Facade.

Main Character: Maddie Stark.

Face-Claim: Maisie Williams.

***  

"What do you want from me? I'm empty. I'm empty."

Mrs. Portman's classroom was so sterile and bleak, and filled with stoic students, each of them concealing their mixed emotions. Nibbling my bottom lip subtly, I scratched at my unnaturally pale arms, beneath my shaggy, over-sized sweater. I had finished the daily assignment, the answer to each question written sloppily using an old, broken pen, which was stained in several places with its own ink.

Despite the fact that nearly everyone in the class had completed their work as well, the space remained utterly silent, as if it were absent of life. The students, including myself, were afraid to let a single word escape from their lips. Because if we weren't careful, we could be flagged, and captured by The Program. Anyone under the age of eighteen, who had fallen victim to depression, was in danger of being taken. And unfortunately, I was one of those people. As long as I kept my depression under a facade, though, I'd have a better chance of staying off of their suspect list. Maybe.

But why? Why did my younger sister's life end so quickly? Before she had even become a teenager? The aura of happiness, always existent when she was there, had just disappeared, and left nothingness, merely a broken and unloving family of three. The twelve-year-old girl, named Grace, had been murdered "accidentally" by a group of rough boys, and I wouldn't ever be able to forgive them for what they did. Never.

And how did The Program suddenly feel like they had a right to steal innocent children, and tear their memories away as if they were worth nothing at all? None of this was right. This wasn't the world we were supposed to live in. As a child, I imagined the future as a time when everything would be alright, when it would all work out. Yet, here I was, stuck in high school, frozen in fear. Fear for myself. That I'd let my emotions pour out.

"Maddie, snap out of it," Mrs. Portman yelled, warning me to pay attention to what was going on in class, although nothing really was.

At an instant, I heard the rumbling of people walking down the nearby corridor, guessing that they were handlers. As if having a security camera set up in every corner wasn't enough, the strong men and women constantly watched us, occasionally visiting the classrooms to drag away the next flagged victim. A couple times each day, the unsettling sound of children screaming and fighting with every bit of power that they had, would enter our ears. But as each one is forcefully carried down the hall, and shoved into the backseat of a small vehicle, the noise fades away until you hear nothing at all. That's the most frightening part of it, because by then you don't know what happened to the student. You can't even be sure that they're alive.

"Please don't stop at our classroom...please," I muttered inaudibly, not allowing the surrounding people to hear.

I could've sworn those pesky handlers perceived the words I said, because right then the three of them stomped inside, in unison. They scanned all of the students, who were politely sitting up in their seats, because those who laid their heads against the desks would most certainly be flagged.

"Dammit," I muttered. I couldn't stand to see another one of my classmates go, even the nonstop troublemakers and not to mention, the arrogant ones who never said anything positive, deserved to keep their memories. 

Why couldn't they just let the teenage depression epidemic fade away on its own? 

[INCOMPLETE, WILL BE FINISHED LATER]