{18+ COMPLETED}
A war that destroyed the world. It came and it went, leaving death and chaos in its wake.
In the resulting turmoil England has split into four regions, a safety measure that was 'essential' to ensure that violence would not reign ov...
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June 1st.
I sit in the dull, quiet room and bite my lip in an attempt to calm my nerves, heart hammering against my chest. I feel nauseous and have done since last night, the anxiety cutting through me every minute.
I'm in one of the old police station interview rooms, one of the only buildings that they put back together after the war tore it apart. The rest of the year they probably use this room for interrogations, judging by the dark blood staining the walls, but today it has a whole other meaning.
"Miss Emilia Burton?" A short, stocky man enters the room, looking me over as soon as he enters.
"Yes," I confirm, attempting to stay strong, my traitorous voice slightly shaky. Another man and a woman enter behind him, the latter smiling at me before they sit down in the chairs on the other side of the table.
"Excellent." The first man smiles. "Should we begin?" he asks and I slowly nod because, once again, what else can I do?
"So we're just going to ask you some generic questions to start with, is that okay?" the woman asks and I nod once more.
"Age?"
"Twenty."
"Parents?"
"Dead."
"We know that dear, what were their names?" She encourages with a smile.
"Richard and Jane Burton," I reply, playing with the hem of my dress under the table.
"Siblings?"
"Jake Burton." I choke slightly over his name. "Dead."
"Your birthday?"
"May 24th."
"Sexual orientation?"
"Uh..."
"It's not a trick question," the fatter man says quickly and I would have laughed if I wasn't so terrified of the State. Yes it fucking is.
"Straight." I confirm, grateful that I am one of the people telling the truth here, forever feeling heartbroken for those who have to lie for risk of death.
"Favourite subject at school?"
"What?"
"Please answer the question."
"Uhh... math I guess?" I don't even know, it's been so long since I cared how I did at school, not focusing in lessons and then leaving that dark, miserable place to work over a year ago now.
"What is your opinion on the population crisis that affects us following the War?" the woman asks. "And how do you think we should combat it?"
These are trick questions, ones designed to segregate who they deem to be the low from the high, the weak from the strong, the safe from the threats.
