The train doors slide open, everyone is marched out with two men in black suits. They gave us handcuffs that dig into your wrists, and gave us nine little pieces of bread a day. A tight grip on my collar chokes me as I am pulled to my feet, the man stares at me, I look down. He shoves my forward, following the train of people leaving. Looking the the right, a boy, who looks to be my age, ignores the two men watching him. They yank his dark shaggy hair, or punch him in the gut, but he refuses to move.
I remember why I'm here, why most of us are here. In fact, I knew before the government took us. When I found out, it was a dark time. Probably more than half of the world's population had been sent here, to London.
The two men lock arms with mine and the two men that tried to get the boy out of the train are now at my heels, not with him anymore. I only know because I look back. Fear strikes across my face. No, it can't be. He's not.. A corpse of a the boy lays on the side of the walkway, his eyes are empty pits that lead into a void of nothingness. He's pale, no rosy color in his cheeks.
Already? Has the government killed someone already? Two days after this so-called amazing-law-that-will-be-life-changing, a death has already happened. One man grabs the back of my neck, I squirm violently and begin to thrash my arms around. I still walk, but it's hard. He begins to pretend his fingers are a spider on my back, and covers my mouth with his free hand.
If this is a punishment for being fans for something, I won't survive.
When he finally stops to torture me, we reach the entrance. A large metal box, iron bars and screams. Scream of terror, I suppose.
We walk down a narrow hall with dim lights, leading us to a large door with many locks. One by one, girls and boys are being shoved in. I'm not sure what happens after than. It is my turn and the men undo my handcuffs, I rub my wrists. Next, they enter a code and it is now imprinted on my left wrist. Number 7402. He shoves me in and a man grabs me by the ear and sets me into a large seat, a transparent cover around it. I know what this is. It's called a Isolation. A chair where you think you're safe, until it drops down into a dangerous room. A few years ago, it was created for the most dangerous criminals. I guess we are those too.
YOU ARE READING
Where Fans Go To Die
قصص عامةCole knew it was coming. He knew that he would be taken as soon as SOPA was enforced. Avia didn't. She barley knew what SOPA was, or that she could be arrested because she was a Fangirl. Both of then were taken, and when people start disappearing, t...
