Elysium

She awoke to darkness, like normal. Although something was different. She could hear things. Feel things. Like the panic and terror, like the bindings around her wrists, tying her to the iron bed frame. Everything felt too loud. Panicking, she began to scream and forced her eyes open, only to reveal a blurred figure leaning over her, some kind of tube in her hands as the girl felt a sharp stab of pain in her right wrist. But something was different. She was still awake. Normally she had entered oblivion by now, but she was still awake. Just barely. It seemed to was finally strong enough to fight off the nurse's daily injections. But all she could hear was the constant buzz of the machine in her left ear. But she could just about make out - "...has awoken..." "...first survivor..." "...her abilities..." My abilities? What the f**k were they talking about? "...sedate her..." "...awake..." It was then she began to thrash and scream, some kind of energy flooding her veins as she clawed at her bindings which somehow untangled as she leaped from the bed and made a dash for it, her hands fumbling with the door handle as she hauled it open and bolted. The overhead lights flickered, and the girl could not help but smile. She would get revenge. For- "No, no,no," the girl whispered, it suddenly dawned on her that she couldn't remember. Not even her own name. But she did not stop running. Even when she began to lose concentration of where she was running too and away from, only that she had to get away. Nothing else mattered, not anymore. But why? The walls began to blur from blue to white to windows of land, but the girl wasn't looking for a view. She was here for one thing - to escape. Before those b****y nurses d**g me again. Her body registered it before she did - a boy; perhaps barely 6, being wheeled out on a metal trolley, dressed in the same white bag-like dress as her, his body unusually pale. Ducking into an alcove, she watched the nurses, their faces made of stone as they continued to wheel the boy to god knows where, and the smell- He's dead. The girl realised as she watched them turn at the bottom of the hall. They killed him, didn't they? They bought us here to die. No matter how old we were. Or are, I suppose. Trying not to dwell on it too much, the girl glanced back and forth at the corridor before bolting back down the hallway to what she hoped was the exit. Hopefully. Maybe. Again, she could hear the conversation behind her. Well, snippets. "...tell them..." "...security..." "...annoyed..." "...near..." And with that she hurtled to the corridor's exit. Without looking back. *** "Come on, dammit, open!" The girl muttered under her breath, barely a whisper in the suffocating silence. Losing patience, she slammed the white box next to it, giving off a loud bang! that seemed to fill the silence. But, somehow, the doors swinged open. Never mind about that now. Let's just get the f**k out of here! She burst through the doors and ran for her life.