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Ninety-four.
The deeply engraved number on the bland wall stared back at her, the two simple digits endlessly tormenting and taunting her. It increased the desperate, hopeless thoughts that overcame her day and night, and was the cause of the salty tears that always managed to escape her cold, blue eyes.
Ninety-four days until her eighteenth birthday. In the past, she would've been fervently counting down the days, minutes, and even seconds to that special occasion. However, this time around she would not be celebrating this day. She'd be awaiting her death.
Ava forced herself to tear her eyes from the wall — from her fate. She lethargically trudged over to her small bed, plopping down on the hard mattress and curling her knees up to her chin. Her dark brown hair fell in front of her face like curtains trying to shield her away from her dreadful surroundings. Her blue eyes scanned the dull room nonetheless, a feeling of pure loathing churning in her stomach.
If there was one thing she'd learned from being held prisoner, it was the very fact that this life was not meant for her — she knew that. In her opinion, she should be living her life the way she desired to — and that certainly does not include rotting away in a cell. She despised the fact that she was involuntarily being secluded and isolated from the rest of the world. All she did was drown in her fantasies of what life could've been. Feeling like a caged animal was definitely not her favorite pastime.
Her cluttered thoughts were drowned out by the clicking and clanging sounds of her cell door being swiftly opened. Looking up, her eyes took sight of the two guards that sauntered in, holding their bodies with authority.
"Prisoner 326, face the wall," the tall, hefty guard demanded sternly.
Instead of snapping back like she normally opted to, Ava simply emitted an audible huff that blew stray strands of brown hair away from her face. As she bit her lip in anticipation, faint noises were heard from behind, catching her attention. She briskly turned her head to see the guard picking up what appeared to be a wristband.
"What's going on?" Ava asked, voice shaking with anxiety. Immediately, her pulse quickened rapidly while her palms began to sweat. Panic rose like bile in her body and her breathing labored greatly. She felt like she was about to pass out any second at the thought of actually dying.
"Quiet."
"N-No, there must be a mistake. My birthday isn't for another," she glanced at the wall hurriedly, "ninety-four days!"
"Be quiet and hold out your arm," the guard ordered hostilely through clenched teeth.
Despite her pleas and protests, the guards began to lunge forward and attempt to take hold of her arm. Ava fought back relentlessly, assuring that it 'wasn't her time'.
Miraculously, she managed to wiggle her way out of the guards' tight grasps, and bolted for the door. Just as she curled her fingers around the cold metal handle, the cracking sound of electricity filled the room.
As Ava was finally about to escape her dreadful spacebox for the first time in almost a year, she was met with a horrible pain in her side and black nothingness.
...
yeah I don't really know what this is it'll get better though I promise
