Earth and Her Stars

chapter one ; the ground.

"PRISONER THREE-TWO-SEVEN, face the wall, hands by your head." One week. That's how long Diana Kane had until her eighteenth birthday, when she would, inevitably, be set free. She committed a nonviolent crime, her father was on the council, and she was from an extremely wealthy and powerful family. She would be fine. She just had to survive one last week in her cell, then she was free. Diana understood the odds, and they leaned heavily in her favor.

What she didn't understand is why the guards were here now. The clock on her wall read 11:23 am, too early for lunch, and it definitely wasn't a visitor. Her father stopped seeing her consistently nearly a year ago, and no one else had bothered to appear since she was arrested two years ago. Diana moved to get off of her bed, hands raised in the air, and eyebrow quirked. "What's this for?"

No response. Diana let out a breath and positioned her body to face the metal walls of her barren prison cell. There were no windows, no drawings, no artwork. To her left was a wall stacked waist-high with books of different genres, whatever she could convince the guards to bring her. To her right sat a bed, on top of which laid a notebook, filled with poorly written French passages, and a dull pencil. She was trying to convince herself that she was still fluent. Her father had managed to convince the council to allow her to continue private tutoring, but one session a week wasn't enough. She dared not ask for more, ruled by the fear that she'd be pushing her luck and end up with no tutoring at all.

Her brain wracked with ideas for what this could be about. It could be another Earth Skills class, but Pike, the instructor, said that there wouldn't be anymore after their last class. Her shower shift was at night. Nobody left their cells, not unless it was--

"I-I'm still seventeen, you know." Her heart pounded in every sense of the word, feeling her nerves alive with anxiety. Diana felt the guard's presence behind her as he grabbed a hold of her left wrist, tugging it behind her back. "I still have one more week!" She began twisting her body as she heard the sound of metal unclasping before feeling a cool sensation encase her wrist. She craned her neck around, trying to get a visual on what she felt.

"Quiet, prisoner three-twenty-seven." Her other arm was pulled behind her back before she felt another metal band cuff her wrist. Her eyes darted around her room, looking for anything she could use to help herself. With both hands cuffed behind her back, she was effectively trapped. The second guard looked at her with watchful eyes, his hand sitting on his shock baton already.

"Where's my father?" Her neck jerked around the room, willing her feet to stay still. The guard behind her turned, yanking her in front of him and moving her through the small room like a ragdoll. "I need to speak to Marcus Kane. I'm still--". She cut herself off. He knew. Goddamn it, of course he knew! He visited her for the first time in nearly a year just three days prior. He told her how he loved her no matter what, and how she was a fighter. He apologized, and said he wouldn't visit her anymore. He looked her in her eyes and said his goodbyes, without even letting her know it was a goodbye.

"Prisoner three-twenty seven, up and against the wall, hands by your head." Diana had been sitting crossed-legged on the floor, a book in her lap and her hair tied in an impossible knot on the top of her head. She sighed, dog-earring the page and closing the book, tossing it effortlessly on the bed.

Diana stood up, feeling her bones crack and she leisurely walked over to the wall, hands flopping up, resting by her ears. "I had a random search on Wednesday, but feel free to check again." She leaned against the wall, letting her eyes close as she heard the shuffling of feet. Room checks were awful. Most of the guards had no regard for keeping the room in an orderly fashion, instead choosing to toss all of her belongings across the room, making a mess of everything.