ASUNDER (I) : tmr newt

19: I'm Done

19 Michelle

​They didn't give me bandages when I got in the prison, so now I have another set of bloody finger prints along the walls. My skin is raw, ripe and red from the ripping of the woods. Besides, it doesn't help that when they threw me down into this massive concrete room, my chin scraped off the cement and my mouth filled with blood.

There is nothing metal here, but I crave the taste. The sour and sterile flavour of industry and building. The only problem is the rules that follow progress. I wish to be somewhere where there is nothing but the night and the blood, and the thirst for hunger.

​"Get up."

​I didn't notice I was lying on the ground. My face is on the side, the floor stained with the blood that has soaked in and pooled out my face. My arms are heavy, and they weigh like bricks against the ground. One arm over top of the other, one leg over top the other, I am trying to hold myself still.

​"Get up."

​A foot collides with my stomach and I hold in the groan that screams on the tip of my tongue. Someone's arm grabs hold of me by the shoulder. They try to lift me, so I hold myself at dead-weight. It takes a few seconds before they drop me at about a foot off of the ground.

​I haven't eaten much all day. The force the cement sends through me makes me see dark black spots blocking my vision.

​"Kick a girl while she is down." The sound swims in the blood that I haven't bothered to spit on to the ground yet. When I prop myself up it drools down my chin; a disgusting combination of spit, blood, and mucus. "I know I'm one of the first girls, but I thought you Gladers were better."

​"Get up." When I look over, I realise it is the same guy who dragged me here.

​My elbows push off the ground, trying to stand up on to my hands. As soon as one touches the concrete, a foot slams on to my back, knocking me down. I bite down on my tongue, but I can't tell if I am bleeding.

​"Shank." I spit.

​I am bleeding. Huh.

​"We've got a banishing to get to," the guy smirks echoes through the concrete walls,

​He and his friend grab me by the shoulders, before moving me out towards the Doors. I try to shrug out of their grips, but my head is a weight that hangs off my neck, swinging back and forth, and my feet drag along the ground as the boys bring me out of the prison.

​When we get out of the solid room, they continue to drag me along the ground, and further towards the Doors. When we get there, it is nearly dark, and the boys stand around. Some hold torches that ignite the night, and others stand solemnly.

​"Michelle of the Builders," their leader begins, kneeling down over top of me, "you are being sentence to banishment for the destruction of property, violent acts, and theft. The Keepers have decided, and their decision is final."

​I scoff, but I can barely speak. "Trees are hardly property."

​"You ain't coming back."

​I don't exactly know what I am denying if I were to deny it. So I stand staring at Alby, glaring up past my eyebrows at his face. He stands in the center of everything, above me as I kneel on the ground before him. His legs are spread apart, his arms are crossed, and he waits for an answer. One that I don't have.

​"This is ridiculous." The Runner boy jumps in, staring down Alby. "I'm voting against this. Why wasn't I at the meeting?"

​"We didn't have time to wait for you." Another boy jumps in. "We kept her in a cell all day, and the longer we drag this out the more of a threat she is "