[PROLOGUE]
Emma Thompson sat in her Skybox cell, tracing her fingers along the cracks of the wall. She hummed to herself, trying to stay sane in this insane world. It was difficult, grasping with the reality that, in less than a week she was going to die.
Five days, twelve hours, and forty-five minutes to be exact.
The clang of metal against metal broke her from her trance. She let out a sigh of relief when she realized it wasn't her cell.
"John Murphy," the prison guard spoke her Skybox-next-door-delinquent's name. She had never seen him, only heard his thinly veiled threats to the guards that came to his cell. He had nightmares that she could hear through the thick steel walls. Once, she had tried to talk to him, to calm him down. That was a mistake she promised never to make again—he had told her fuck off and threw a bunch of curse words her way.
His response drew her in. "You know I've still got two days left. You guys trying to kill me early, just like you did with my parents?"
"Nope. You've been selected to be sent to earth."
Emma grew angry. Why the fuck did this guy get the opportunity to go down to earth?! Her rage and disgust grew for the boy she had never met.
The guards at her cell made her skin crawl. They looked particularly slimy today, and the blond one leered in her direction.
"Emma Thompson."
"Yes?" She spoke, her voice sounding much less bitter and confident than she wanted.
"You have been selected to be sent to earth. The Dropship will leave at 12:30 tomorrow."
The guards left without a word, leaving her speechless.
Earth. She was going to Earth.
[END PROLOGUE]