Dystopia

⌘ Grey

Answers. I need answers. But from where? I simply cannot comprehend what I could have done.

Or said?

"Hello can someone answer me?" I call but to no response. I uncross my legs and walk towards the green cell door, the small barred window provides little view.

I tiptoe to see out of it, the hallway appears empty. However, the sound of footsteps proves me wrong as a guard awaits not far.

Biting my lip, I wonder what I should do. Do I wake him up? Demand answers? Or accept the punishment I deserve.

I honestly can't remember what I have done to end up in here. What could I have done that is that bad I had to be placed in solitary confinement.

Suddenly a pair of grey eyes meet mine on the opposite side of the window, causing me to jump back slightly.

Without caution the cell door swings open and I am presented a tall red headed woman wearing a black suit.

"Lena-Ann Prescott follow me."
Is all I'm greeted with until I am forced to scurry behind the lady.

I am lead into a room, a interrogation room to be precise. Inside it holds a old TV, a table and two chairs. A guard waits outside the door.

"Sit," she instructs. I sit down and look to see four cameras on each corner of the room. She plants herself in the seat in front of me.

"Do you know who I am?" She questions. I shake my head too afraid to answer. "My name is Geraldine Harts but you may only refer to me as Ma'am or Ms.Harts," she says clamorously.

This Ms.Harts is clearly not a women to be reckoned with. She holds her chin high and seems pernickety about the way she holds herself.

Her red hair is held in a tight bun, tightly pulled away from her face. She squints before she puts a pair of thin framed glasses on, that rest on the tip of her nose.

"Lena, from now on I'm in charge around here," she spits.

"Er, okay," I respond, I don't think I'm in charge, I don't even know why I'm here.

"I don't like how this place is run so expect there to be many changes. For starters own clothes. I despise the amount of freedom given to the inhabitants here so the liberty is going to be rebuked, you will wear what we give you to wear. " She looks me up and down.

This is a slight relief as I'm running out of clothes to wear.

"Like what? Orange jumpsuits?" I ask sarcastically, it's obvious she's trying to intimidate me but I won't give in.

"No. Grey ones. I've never actually liked the colour orange," she says putting a none existent hair behind her ear.

That's rather ironic considering you're practically ginger

"Education is a key factor for any youth and will be brought back to this hell hole, your young corrupted mind isn't going to learn everything in therapy. Also an additional community service will be required 3 times a week," She informs while taking out a DVD.

"Now Lena, I've checked you files and you have no record of drug addiction, an overdose of your antidepressants came to be quite a surprise might I say." She wipes the DVD onto her blazer.

"I didn't do it on purpose I-" I start before she cuts me off.

"I don't want to hear it, from now on your pill will be given to you along with your lunch daily for the next 2-4 weeks." She places the DVD in and switches the screen on.

"I understand that you probably don't recall much from yesterday and as part as your rehabilitation I am obliged to show you what you have done wrong and why you have been punished." She presses play on the t.v.

...

The tank seems normal, people playing card games walking around, talking and just sitting there. Dean is in his usual chair by the window. Bursting through the doors I come skipping in.

Oh no.

For some reason I appear to be laughing as I approach Dean. He seems disinterested as usual and I begin sobbing onto his shoulder.

What was I doing? I rub my temples trying to comprehend how much of an influence these pills had on my emotions.

Clumsily, I stand up before shouting at him. I pull the large bobby pin out of my hair and bite the plastic tip off, revealing a sharp metal. Dean puts his hands up to stop me from-

I turn away from the screen with tears in my eyes. I gently move my fingers across my thigh and feel three bloody scabs.

"Ouch," I murmur out as I touch the small punctures. What was I thinking?

I lift up my skirt to see fresh wounds. The tear spills onto my cheek before I can blink it away.

How could I repeatedly stab myself? Oh God what have I done? In front of everyone.

I direct my attention back to the screen.

Dean grabs my wrists and calls for the guards, blood seeps down my leg as I wrestle the guards to stop them from taking me away.

"Listen here Lena, I don't want an incident like this to occur again so I will be keeping you in solitary confinement until further notice, it is clear you are a threat to yourself and others. For now, your food will be delivered to your cell along with your pills," Ms. Harts states.

"You will go straight to classes and back to solitary, apart from your therapy and community service, you will have no other contact with your fellow inmates. It is clear you need time to stabilise before you can rejoin your room mate." She gets up and opens the door.

A guard waits outside with a grey tracksuit in his hands. "You will be escorted back to your cell where you will put this on, I'm sure it'll fit." She doesn't give me time to speak.

I hang my head in shame as I follow the guard back to my cell, track suit in hand.

What did I say to Dean? I'm still dumbfounded as to what could have occurred to cause me to inflict pain upon myself. If I hadn't seen the video footage myself I wouldn't have believed it.

I guess inside I'm just a bit sducidal.

................................
Sorry I've been really inactive but I had loads of exams and homework so yeah.

But ouch Lena stabbed herself three times? In front of Dean. In front of everyone.. what did she say? Why would she do such a thing? All we be revealed soon...

Hope your liked it pls vote/comment

Francesca xxx