Surviving the S.T.R.I.P. (ON HOLD)

Chapter One

Gwen

I sat on the small wooden bench, curled up in a ball. Was this really happening? The day every person dreaded their whole life was here. 

My heart was beating a million times faster than normal, my head was pounding, and my whole body was completely shaking. 

My finger nails were digging into my hand, sure to be bloody soon. I could barely breathe. 

The door opened just a crack, and I saw my mom walk into the room. Her eyes were filled with tears and she was shaking, just like me.  She was wearing a blue dress that went just below her knees, and it looked perfect on her. She was very young to have an 18 year old daughter; she had me very young. Her hair was done up very fancy; she wanted to be presentable in case they showed our talk on TV. 

"Gwen!" She ran up to me and enclosed me into her tight embrace. 

"Mom, I'm scared. What if they don't fall for it?" I asked, still wrapped in her arms. 

"Baby, you're smart. You've watched this on TV all your life, you know what to do. Find an ally you can trust. Take sleeping shifts. Don’t show your true colors till you know you’re safe."

I sighed and tried to ask again, "But what if they don't believe me?!" 

"They will, darling. Do whatever you have to do to stay alive, no matter what, I'll be proud." My mom looked me right in the eye, driving her words even deeper into my heart. I nodded my head slightly and dug my face into her shoulder. I had one more question to ask her before she had to leave.

"Mom?"

"Yeah?"

"When you came in here, were you this scared?"  I pulled myself back a bit and studied her facial expression. She seemed quite shocked by my question. 

"Honey, of course I was. I think I was even more scared because I had you with me, too. I tried my hardest to keep you alive inside of me so that you could have a future, and I really hope that you try your hardest.” She paused for a second to regain her composer.  When she spoke again, her voice shook with every word. “Gwen, please don’t die out there… I don't know what I'd do without you." There were tears falling from her cheeks again. She was remembering her time in the Strip 18 years ago. 

"I don't want to kill anybody. I don't."

"I'd rather you kill someone than die. Just don't die." She kissed my forehead gently and stroked my hair. 

Right then, a guard came into the room and escorted my mom out. She didn't say a final goodbye, and neither did I; we just left it there, silent.  I walked over and curled up again on the bench again, this time trying to keep myself warm. It had dropped quite a few degrees since I had gotten here. 

I thought about what my mom had said, about her being more scared then I was. I knew that my mother was pregnant with me when she came into the Strip. If she hadn't come out alive, I wouldn't be in here right now. The board of the S.T.R.I.P. wouldn’t have saved her just for being pregnant. They would have killed her if Harvard hadn’t seen her as a test subject. They wanted to study her mental conditions after surviving the S.T.R.I.P. while pregnant. Thank goodness for Harvard…

My dad had a different story. He died in the Strip that same year. I never knew him. Mom said that he was an amazing guy, whole-heartedly offered to pay for me, my life, everything. But after he died, his parents disowned his promise. My mom raised me alone ever since. 

Suddenly a cool breeze caught me in my thoughts, and I lifted my head to see something I never expected to see. The wall in front of me slowly lowered into the ground. I stood up and checked my outfit one last time, buttoning my jacket, pulling down my sweats, tucking in my T-shirt, things like that.