Last Words

Punishment

I gripped the bars of my small cell. That's a civilized word for it, but I'm not sure how to describe where I am, where I've been. All I know is I'm still alive, who am I kidding, I might as well be dead. Once a week, it all goes back to my first time, my initiation as a prisoner of this hell. Three shocks. I don't know who else there is, but I'm insane. They've shocked enough insomnia into my brain. 8 months, 32 weeks, 128 days, I've kept count. Maybe not days, but if you count months as 4 weeks. 32 times they've put me into their electric chair. Every day holds something special.

I started to cry, feeling a sharp pain in my shoulder. I shot upward, starting to have one of those spark attacks. After your 3rd time in the chair, you get them often enough. Tomorrow is my next turn in the chair. So what special event is for today? I laid on the ground, gasping for air. Guards opened my cage and dragged me out, I can't fight. I lost my strength, will to live, most of my nerves are always going crazy, I've lost my mind, what is possibly left to take from me? I don't even remember my name sometimes. I have a number, 91.

I started screaming as my eyes were down, moving as much as I could. I didn't know what would be coming, but not again. None of it again. I felt something against my spine, electricity. Punishment. I fell and everything went blank. I got snapped back to being awake from a sharp pain to my face. A slap. "Number ninety-one has been nominated to punishment for resistance, torture." I looked up, it took all my strength to lift my head. I hadn't spoke in five months, not any real words anyways. "Isn't being here torture enough, dimwit?" I hissed, choking on my words.

There was no more voice when a light came on, I panicked. Please get me out of here. I'm definitely not up for this. I see a table, filled with all sorts of different... I gulped. The light made me blink, made me hot. It was always hot. Sweating, it gets hard to notice when you've lived with it instead of showers for so long. I was standing, cuffed to the ceiling and all. I was shaking, anxiety gets worse, to extremes. I hissed in pain when a shock attack made my lower body give out. My wrists, they were already bleeding.

I saw something that was grabbed by someone in disguise of a ninja. It looked rusty and harmless. Then I heard a click and saw fire. I screamed and tried to get away, only to hear a sickening sound. Pain numbed my wrist after I heard it break. I screamed and stopped running. Just face it, it will be over soon. The little voice of hope in my head. Hadn't heard it in a while, it's still alive. I'm still alive. I blinked, lifted my head, "Give me your worst." I managed, but with my lack of speech it sounded a bit off. The fire tool went towards my stomach. First one has to be in one of the worst places. The heat touched my skin and then the fire burned into it. Me. They pressed it into me. There goes, I saw black spots that gradually grew to connect and I saw no more.

I woke up to something cold, opposite of what I fell asleep to. Cold water. I was in a different room. I was in a bigger cell than I was used to. "Number ninety-one, breakfast." We got two meals every three days. I looked at the small can of beans. Wow, classy. A small plastic spoon and all. I started to eat. I usually ate little throughout the time until the next meal. As soon as I was done a guard came. Before he could open the cell door, a bomb went off. It flew me to the back of my cage. I heard my spine pop before falling to the ground and being thrown around as the cage rolled. I was out soon due to new injuries.

............Almost 8 months ago...........

I woke up to the horn of a car. Leaping out of bed, I realized what was happening. I hurriedly changed before brushing at my hair and getting ready. My boyfriend was here. There was an early party-type thing the mayor of our city was hosting for Christmas. It wasn't a formal clothing type deal, but I put on relatively-nice clothes. My boyfriend was ringing the doorbell. My parents had to be there early. My mother was one of the head lawyers and my father was the cop protecting the Mayor. I ran to get the door. Then I finished my hair, put on my shoes, grabbed my phone, and finally looked at him. "Sorry, you woke me up with your horn." He smiled and took my hand. "Well at least you can get ready fast. Let's go so we can be a little early." Before we left the house, he turned. "You also look nice." I smiled at him. He was amazing. We had been together for almost two years. He opened the car door for me and, blushing, I sat in the front seat. We got there about 7 minutes before the party started. The mayor had her speech before we got to dancing and eating. After about half an hour of dancing, we sat by a window. He soon left to get us a couple drinks of punch. I heard a few screams before one window broke. A bomb blew just after hitting the window. It wasn't very large, a small blow. I went backwards to hit a different window. It broke and I fell onto a balcony about 5 feet down. I was temporarily in shock and winded, unable to move or breathe. I felt a punch to the face before arms dragged me. I started coughing at some sort of smoke and was out like a light.