Kye by Little Ordinary Very Exciting
Disclaimer: I write only for the enjoyment of writing and not for money. The characters you recognise do not belong to me; the TV show doesn't belong to me. Only the original characters are my own.
It all happened back when we were just kids... well, teenagers, really, but who's counting. This is how it went down. I had escaped my cell in the middle of the night and was fleeing down a shadowy hall in the vague direction of an escape route when I happened to run past another room that looked very much like my own, from the outside. I came to a screeching halt, dread knotting my stomach. What if this was another of the Centre's project's cells? Could I help someone else to find a way out of this nightmare, also?
For a moment I thought of only myself, then an anguished face at the window changed my mind. Who was this person, and were they a fellow 'project' like me? Do I dare to attempt saving this boy when it would put my own escape in jeopardy? And then a new thought struck me: What if he could help me get out?
I heard the sound of footfalls approaching at a fast clip and ran. I wanted to help the boy, too, but I couldn't risk my own safety and well being on it. Unfortunately, there was a contingency of sweepers waiting at the end of the hall for me to make my escape. They didn't look happy to see me, either. Probably because this wasn't my first attempt at 'leaving home'.
I turned sharply to escape their grabbing hands, but I slipped on the floor and skidded painfully into the wall. I wasn't getting out tonight.
She woke up in a cell – she couldn't tell if it was her regular cell or a new one – and noticed, all of a sudden, that her right hand was shackled to the bed. Her first thought was, I definitely messed that up, eh! Her second thought being, When can I do it again?
There was a glass of water on the end table next to her bed. She tried to grab it – she was very thirsty – the problem was her hand was still handcuffed to the bed and she could reach that far. They were taunting her, like the miserable creeps they were!
Later, she noticed a figure standing in front of her door. "Come in here so I can whoop your asses!" she croaked angrily, her throat rasping uncomfortably, reminding her that she was thirsty.
She hopped off her bed and in a complicated manoeuvre, managed to get a hold of the bars and dragged the bed across the floor, towards the end table and grabbed her glass of water. She took one small sip before turning to the door and splashing the contents in the direction of the shadowy figure standing there. "Take that, you creepy punk!"
The water sloshed through the bars and splashed onto the man. Dripping with water, he opened the door and the girl took the opportunity to whack the man over the head with the glass still in her hand. The scowl wiped off his face as he hit the floor, unconscious.
She bent down and crept closer on her knees, finding the keys that would uncuff her from the bed. What a tool!
Her heart leapt with joy as she made for the door, pulling it closed after her. She wouldn't make the same mistake again; she wouldn't stop for anyone. She would get out and bring back help, instead.
Once again, Kye's attempts to escape ended direly. In other words, in recapture. "Shit!" she hissed loudly, badly in need of a glass of water, as they dragged her off to meet Mr. Parker. She was in trouble now. "Yeah, you better take me to your boss! I have a coupla words for that up-stuck punk!" she spat.
After all that, she was still made to wait until the chairman would see her. Apparently, she wasn't as important as she'd been led to believe. There were other things more pressing to the chairman than the almost-escape of one of his Pretenders. Wow, that guy was way caring about his job! she thought darkly, thinking over what she might say to him when the time came.
A young girl came out of the chairman's office and walked down the hall, out of sight, never once sparing Kye or the sweepers a second glance; then it was Kye's chance to see the chairman.
She was hustled into the room by two sweepers who launched into telling the story of her almost-escape, apparently very upset by her actions and keen to see her punished.
Kye's eyes flashed darkly with fury. "You can't treat me like this!" she yelled. "I'm a human being – I have basic human rights!"
"You don't have rights here, Kye," the chairman told her seriously, in his typical I-own-the-place tone.
"You should treat us right or else we won't work the way you intend for us t-t-to," she stammered, making up and down movements with her arms like a robot; a glitchy robot.
"Enough with the childish antics, Kye!"
"I can't even get a glass of water around here!" she stormed.
"I don't think so!" one of the sweepers muttered unhappily. The one with a lump on his forehead from where she'd whacked him with the last glass she'd been given.
Kye laughed, pointing her finger as if it was a joke.
"Can I hit her, boss?" the sweeper asked the chairman, who scowled at him.
"Nobody touches the prodigies unless I give the order, sweeper! Take her back to her cell and see that she is supplied a glass of water."
"That's not appropriate, sir," one sweeper said.
"This time, keep your eyes on her. If she tries anything funny, she'll have to live without that glass of water."
Kye tossed her head. "I'd also like better furniture, and a feature wall, or something to liven up the general atmosphere."
"That's enough out of you too, Kye!" the chairman ordered, unimpressed by her recent behaviour.
"Well I thought it was a lark," she said to herself, gaining no smiles, however, sadly. She was promptly dragged back to her cell.
Before she was manhandled into her cell she yelled out, "Y'all folks in them other cells, don't let the Man 'handle ya! We got rights too, people! Stick up for 'em!" She punched her fist into the air in defiance. "Can I at least get a 'Yeah!'"
Nobody made a sound.