Chapter seven
838 Words
Mira Pov
The next morning—or what I assumed was morning—I woke up with a stiff neck and a growing sense that this place wasn't going to let me leave anytime soon. I hadn't slept well.
Every time I closed my eyes, I saw Grandma. Not clearly. Just flashes. Her name on my phone. The fear in her voice. The crash I'd heard before the call ended. Every time the memory replayed, I woke up before I could reach the end of it.
The room looked exactly the same as it had before I fell asleep. No windows. No clocks. No way of knowing how much time had passed. Just rows of benches, tired faces, and guards standing near the exits like statues.
A girl across from me sat with her knees pulled against her chest. She looked younger than everyone else, maybe sixteen at most.
Her eyes were swollen from crying. Nobody was comforting her anymore.
That was something I had started noticing. The longer people stayed here, the less energy they seemed to have for hope. Not because they were cruel. Because they were tired. There was a difference.
Jenna was already awake. She sat beside me, staring at the ceiling.
"You snore."
I looked at her.
"I absolutely do not."
"You do."
"I don't." She shrugged.
"Whatever helps you sleep at night." For the first time since arriving, I almost smiled. Almost.
A guard entered carrying a clipboard. Immediately, conversations stopped.
The room seems to do that automatically now. People paid attention whenever someone with authority entered.
The guard glanced down at the paper. Then he started reading names. Three girls stood. Nobody argued. Nobody asked questions. That part still felt strange to me. If someone took me from my home, I would fight. I would scream. I would demand answers.
But after two days here—or however long it had been—I began to understand why people stopped. Nothing changed. Questions weren't answered. Arguments didn't matter. The system moved whether you cooperated or not. The girls followed the guard out.
The door shut behind them. The room returned to waiting. That seemed to be the real purpose of this place. Waiting. Waiting to be called. Waiting to be chosen. Waiting for something nobody understood.
Around midday, another group was taken. Then another. By evening, several new faces had appeared in the room while others had disappeared.
The turnover bothered me more than anything else. People came. People left. Nobody explained where they went.
It was like pieces of a puzzle kept being removed before anyone could see the full picture.
A girl bolted from her seat. For half a second nobody reacted. Then she ran. The entire room froze. The girl sprinted toward one of the exits, moving so fast she nearly slipped.
For a moment, I genuinely thought she might make it.
She reached for the door. A guard intercepted her before her hand touched the handle.
The whole thing lasted less than five seconds. The guard caught her arm. She screamed. Not shouted. Screamed.
The sound echoed off every wall. "Please let me go!"
Nobody moved. Nobody helped. Everyone watched. The guard didn't yell at her. Didn't hit her. Didn't even look angry. He simply restrained her and waited. A second guard arrived. Then a third. The girl kept crying. Kept begging. Kept promising she wouldn't tell anyone anything if they let her leave.
The words poured out of her so fast they barely made sense. Eventually, they led her out. The room remained silent long after she disappeared.
I looked at Jenna. "Has that happened before?" She nodded. "Twice." "What happened to them?" Jenna stared at her tray. "I don't know." The answer felt honest. That somehow made it worse.
That night, nobody talked much. The failed escape hung over the room like a storm cloud. Even the girls who usually whispered among themselves stayed quiet.
I couldn't stop thinking about it. Not because she'd failed. Because of the way everyone reacted. Nobody seemed surprised.
Like hope had become something dangerous.
I lay awake longer than usual.
The lights overhead never turned completely off.
They dimmed slightly, but that was it. Just enough darkness to sleep. Not enough to forget where you were.
I must have drifted off eventually because the next thing I knew, someone was shaking my shoulder. I sat up immediately. My heart was already racing before I understood why. A guard stood beside me. His expression revealed nothing. Around us, several girls had lifted their heads to watch. The room felt suddenly smaller. More focused.
The guard glanced down at the clipboard in his hand. Then he looked directly at me.
"Mira Carter."
The sound of my own name made my stomach drop. Nobody had called me since I'd arrived. Not once. Not until now. The guard folded the clipboard under his arm.
"Come with me."
And for the first time since entering this place, I realized my turn had finally come.
- Writer
