0281: A Short Story

"0281."

The gender less voice boomed through the speakers, and in came a girl, tossed in like a rag doll. Most of the other kids didn't notice her, or didn't bother looking in her direction. It was something we've all seen and been through.

But I stared at her. I wonder what went through her mind, what thoughts were crashing against her skull. I wonder if she was scared, confused, or angry. Maybe all three. I had felt it all too, and there is still a part of my conscience that nudged me constantly, confused and lost in the chaos. There is only so much we could hold. I've seen other kids who've thrown themselves onto the ground screaming, only to be dragged away by guards.

I never saw them again.

She jerked her head back, wincing. Her hair

"Why?" Her voice cracked, and she tighten her hold on her hand.

He breathed out, a question everyone asked from time to time. I still asked myself that. "We're prisoners of war. We're meant to repent and repay the government." Frisb smiled weakly. "What's your name, 0281? Age?" His voice dripped with sarcasm, as it was painful saying people's serial numbers. It was dehumanizing us every time.

The girl blinked, and her hand dropped to her sides. "Marcy Gray, I'm eleven," she bit on her lip, and her entire posture changed, she had stiffen up like a soldier - determined and cold. She backed up until her small back hit the door where she was thrown in. "I don't want to stay." She said, her voice shaking. "We did nothing wrong, we're just children!" Marcy yelled, and slammed her right fist into the metal door. Everyone shut their eyes and covered their faces. She continued to hit the door. Repeatedly, making a sickingly sound rhythm.

Frisb slowly began to advance towards her, arms reaching out to console the poor girl.

"Frisb," I spoke up, and he stopped. "she's traumatized." I stood up wearily, my black uniform wrinkled, but I didn't care, no one did.

Except for the officials, of

"We have to survive. We have to become ... become -"

"What, soldiers?" Marcy snapped.

"We have to become stronger!" I said with just as much force as she did. And this time she looked at me, instead of looking through me.

As so did everyone else from their seats. They peered from their books issued to them by the head officials, and attention was on us. Frisb, even from the back of the room, was staring at us. "Even if we are just kids, even if we don't know the outside world anymore," I held her by the shoulder gently, making sure she was understanding everything I said. "we have to stay alive."

Her head hung, and she was staring at her serial code on her palm. 0281. "Stay alive and be weapons, huh." She said quietly. I jerked back as if she had hit me. Be weapons. No one had ever said that.

No one had wanted to face the possibility.

"No, stay alive and be human." A girl spoke up, and I looked at her, even Marcy turned her attention to the new voice. It was Olly. She was bitter and tougher than most girls here, and she never made an attempt to talk to anyone. It was either when she had to, or when she wanted something. She pushed herself off from her seat, and walked towards us slowly. "We've been here longer than you, newcomer, don't think you can give up just