Where Fans Go To Die

Cole

"7402! 7403!" I whip around, a guard shouts to us from the top of the stairs. He comes down and unlocks the door, and I walk out, Avia on my heels. It has been a week since the first day, we are lined up readying to take showers.

"Don't forget to drink the shower water." I whisper to Avia, others hear me, they look and nod, mouthing thanks.

We walk in and I undress, save my old clothes on a my rack. The cold water stings the infected whip cuts on my back. I bit down on my thumb to stop screaming, in hate and pain. I dry off, slip on my new clothes and wait outside, scanning the crowd for Avia. She stands behind me, her arms crossed, trying to stay hidden. The girl infront of me are called, then we are. I snatch the bread out of the servers hand, and the man who tried to get with Avia takes us back to the cells.

"Hurry up!" He spat, kicking the back of our legs, we almost run, clenching onto our food. I let Avia run infront of me and start to walk slowly. He places his hand on my back and I shiver from the coldness. His hands are wet, and it is soaked up by my shirt. The cuts stings even more and I wince as I walk. "Stop!" He yells when my cell mate is inside, he slams the door and lifts up the back of my shirt, spraying ice cold water into the cuts. I wince each time he sprays.

After five minutes, my back is numb and I sit down next to Avia. We decide to use my new shirt as a cloth to wrap up some of the extra pieces of bread and water. "Please don't look." I say, standing I'm the corner, my back exposed. I put on the old shirt and sit back down.

We wrap the bread and put it between us. I slip the arm warmers on. We are called to the field, well, most of the prisoners are. The guards unlock door by door. When one reaches us, he skips to the next one.

We're trapped.