The Selection

Chapter 1

Hey guys! So like I mentioned in my other story, this is for one of my classes in high school, so criticism is super helpful! I hope you enjoy this!!!

I don't think I can do this anymore. I'm a living pincushion for these monsters called doctors. I cannot bear this unnerving pain, I ache all over. My arm is disgustingly bruised. Black and blue bruises line both sets of arms, especially my elbows and wrists. I never could cooperate with them, these awful monsters. Since I don't make anything easy, ever, they tie my wrists down whenever I visit the doctor. I smirk when I replay the memory in my mind. The first day I got here, I had to visit the doctor. I ended up kicking his shin and punching his jaw. I left some awful bruises on his stupid, pale face. But after that incident, I never walked anywhere without some sort of restraints on my arms and legs. Well, when they do let me leave this God-awful room. My day consists of waking up, eating subpar food, visiting the doctor, eating some more subpar food, then going to bed. I only leave this cold drab room once a day. 

The trip to the doctor's office is very short. It's a couple of feet from my room. There are no windows or doors. The halls, from what I've seen, are plain grey, with small lights on the walls to let anyone who passes them some sight. The office is a small doorway like the one for my room, but the room is much bigger than my own. There's a steel table, the ones where they put dead people on, smack dab in the middle of the table. Every time I enter, I always picture myself laying there, dead. Maybe that's my only escape. Death. He does simple tests on me, some days at least. It was 2 days in when he started doing tests on me. The first test was awful. He gave me some sort of drug. I don't remember too much of that day though. I just remember being given the drug, then I passed out. I was told that I woke up several times with the 5 minutes after that, but I was in excruciating pain. It was 5 weeks later that I had finally fully recovered from that damned drug. I was tied to the steel metal table the day that I woke, the doctor said the test had failed. They never bothered telling me why they did all these tests on me, but from the whispers that I've heard, I'm special to them. I don't know why, but I've always been curious as to why they think that. Me special? Yeah right.

No one actually speaks to me though, it's only ever been the doctor. Someone watches over me though, there are cameras in my room. It's not like I could escape anyways. How could I? What do they expect me to do? Break the concrete. It's honestly a joke, but it's not like I have the capability to complain, I'm a prisoner here. I'm quietly laying on my bed, my legs are off the side of the bed, swinging back and forth as I stare up at the stark white ceiling. Nothing is running through my mind anymore. It's 4:51. I already ate my last meal of the day, and I don't have to visit that old doctor anymore. As I continue to lay on my queen-sized bed, located in the center of my room, endless negative thoughts fill my entire body. There's a stupid window on one of the walls- I don't even know why it's there, you can't see out of it anyways. The faint lights from the lights on the walls barely bring light into my room. As I walk to the slim doorway, the camera in the room follows my figure as I grudgingly continue with my plot. I move into the bathroom, another grey drab room. My hands are resting on the edge of the sink in my bathroom. I tilt my head up to look at my face. I look so pale. The whites of my eyes seem so dull- lifeless. If I could go back in time to fix myself or how I got here, I would. But now, it's too late for me. For everyone actually. "I'm being selfish, I know. I can't do it anymore, I don't care for strangers. Or anyone for that matter. No one cared for me so why should I do the same." I asked myself wordlessly. My hand goes back to pull some of my hair behind my eye to view my sickly pale skin. I let out a deep breath as I reach for the mirror, I pull it hard to open it up. I grab the bright orange pill bottle and read, "Stephanie Johnson." I release the seal lock and twist the bottle cap and set it down on the sink. I grab a glass and fill it with tap water. I hold all the pills in my hand and the glass of water in the other, I look one last time at my sickly face, int my dead eyes. I jolt as a siren starts going off and a red light faces on my wall. "Guess I have to do this quickly huh," I say in a low voice. I hear sharp bangs on the door to my room, as I lift the pill filled hand to my mouth, I down them all and wash away the bitter taste with water. 

I stand there, seemly going numb for a minute. All I can do is stare into my dead, sea blue eyes. My previous golden hair is gone, replaced with a matted black hair. Little features of myself actually stay the same of my previous life. They didn't want me to be recognized- not like anyone could see me anyways, my room is a 13 by 13 by 13 concrete room, no windows or mirrors. Not until a bathroom got installed, connecting my room to 1 mirror and lights. I could never escape them. When I first got to look at the bathroom, my eyes focused on the camera in the corner of the new addition. I remember smirking at the sight of it, "ha, they don't trust me. Good choice." I thought. This isn't the first time I've tried to end my life. Ever since I got taken in 2184, I've tried to die at least 48 times in the 10 years I've been taken to this god-awful place. I come out of my trance to someone pushing me down to the ground, my head is slammed against the ground, and all I see are stars in my vision. Everything starts becoming hazier as I fade in and out on consciousness. Maybe this time I'll die for good.