My name is Ava and I live in a city called Eekeline. And this is what my world has come to. The Eekeline Drones terrorize every outcast in the city. Everything is under control by the government, which basically consists of four computer nerds playing a video game, except its real life for us. They call themselves the creators. Most people are under the vicious mind control and don't know what's going on, except for the resistance. William, my father, created all of the technology that the creators play with. But they brutally murdered him along the rest of my family to use the technology as a weapon toward society, so now it's just me, my brother, and my fellow resistors.

"Adam, you need to get Damon and find more food, were running low," I sighed after having said this to him for the past three days. It's as if he doesn't understand how skinny and weak the new-comers are after going through the withdrawal process. In other words we took all of the mechanical devices out of their brains with forks; it was pretty intense, considering we are a bunch or inexperienced teenagers with nothing to even sterilize the equipment. But it seemed to work except for the fact that we have to treat them like newborn children because they've never done anything on their own without the mind control. It's like watching a society full of brainless zombies.

Some one screamed, suddenly I was alert as a dog because there were only a few possible reasons someone would risk that much noise in our hideout. Option A, some brainless newcomer tripped and fell. Option B, the Drones arrived. I was pretty sure I knew witch one it was. As I turned I saw the familiar flash of the laser bullets past two millimeters away from my face, the wind from it sweeping up my hair. They were back, I knew we should have moved locations days ago, but with the new-comers so unstable I couldn't bring myself to make a risk like that. Besides hopefully Adam, Damon, and I could take the drones. I ran into Damon's arms and his familiar sent calmed my heart beat. He was wearing a too-small-for-his muscles shirt and I was wearing my usual combat boots and ripped, mud striped jeans. As I clung to his body it seemed as if the entire battle was put to a pause and the feeling I haven't have in so long came back, the feeling of safety in this whole messed up place. But that's not a reality I had to come back to earth, we didn't have this false sense of hope. After the split second show of affection, which is forbidden, he and I ran hand in hand toward the dumpster where we stashed our weapons. I grabbed my favorite hot pink cameo Machine gun, and Damon went with something a little classier a huge ass machete, which if I may add he was very good with. It also came in handy for cutting through what was left of the forests to make camp. Adam took after my father he isn't so good at combat, so it has always been his job to collect the few items we needed for survival and load the resistors and newcomers into the hovercraft, which I stole two weeks ago from headquarters. There were five Drone Bots, all with gun arms and all ripped the kind of muscle you get after years of training. Looked like daddy's friends we ready to play, but so were we.

I shot three impenetrable drones. It obviously wasn't to actually destroy them just stall so that Damon could find the blind spot and shove the machete through the back of its skull. The creators always try to make them look to be human. So as always when Damon killed one, a blood way to crimson colored to be real oozed out of the perfect lightning bolt line Damon carved, it was his signature move. A way to tell them "yes, we did this, and guess what; we are still two steps ahead of you, and we don't have fancy shmancy toys, HA." So as Damon did his thing I did what I do best, shot straight. I must have been overconfident or maybe my head just wasn't in the game this time, because all of a sudden a striking pain shot into my left side. I couldn't pin point were exactly the pain was because the fire hot pain was too much to handle so I left out a small moan, trying not to show to much weakness. I felt something warm and sticky trickling down my legs coating the bottom half of my body and run into my combat boot, I dared not look at It. So I blinked away the tears and channeled the adrenaline into my shooting. I heard Adam cry my name but I couldn't leave Damon alone to fend them all off. We needed a plan, but Damon was about 10 yards away and if I yelled to him the drones would channel the vibrations of my voice and I would become a perfect target. The only thing to use in this situation was a little game from camp, so many years ago, when the city wasn't a bizarre, sociopathic circus. We played a nice game of Charades. He finally caught my eye and we played, after each signal he would raise his callused thumb in an up or down position, letting me know if he understood. Of course we've been together since we were 8 so it's been seven years of spending every second together. It really paid off because I knew his facial expressions like the back of my hand. After about five minutes of panicked charades and absentmindedly shooting he understood. He ran, and as he did I shot like a crazy hobo on drugs. He was about 7 feet from the hovercraft. It was going to work, this might actually work. But for some reason I couldn't move and the pain came back. I was well aware my whole bottom half was soaked with something.

"Don't look at it," I repeated to myself with a shivering breath.

I started to cry and shiver, and my tears eroded the dried mud down my cheeks. I had to look at it. When I saw it all of my emotions came out I screamed and cried and fell to the floor, dropping the gun. I was completely defenseless. I could feel life slowing leaving me and wanted to give up hope. But I knew that was not what Ava did. She was I girl who never lost hope, persevered even in the most desperate hour. Sadly I did not feel this way now. I never slipped up, never. But just as the drone was drawing nearer, ready to strike my trembling blood drenched body, I felt strong unfamiliar arms rap around me. I was in the craft. It felt like a dream, like I was watching this from a movie screen or something. But there was a fog over my eyes.

Adam told me that if you managed to survive a laser striker, you had serious hallucinations for weeks afterward. But my last thought before I left completely was "who was my mysterious savior?"

I was somewhere with sticks in the air that wouldn't stay still. And I briefly remember a figure moaning to me but. I began to understand what it was. This was heaven. I made a mumbling gurgle sound, than blacked out again.

This has been happening a lot now; I can't keep track of time.

I always thought heaven would be less painful, and confusing. It was like nothing had gravity. But whenever it got really scary and I wanted to scream it never came out. It was like those dreams where you're getting hurt or raped and there are people who would be able to save you if you screamed, but no matter how hard you tried it would never happen. That was how this was; only it lasted for what seemed like forever.

It was another morning, things seemed to be getting clearer in my dreams, or heaven, or where ever I was, less foggy.

"She should be awake soon hopefully, we did our best with the wound and it wasn't bad but the hallucination must be hell," I heard a familiar voice say. My eyes didn't flutter open, I didn't smile like you probably imagined. Nope, I full on jumped out of the bed, ignoring soreness in my side, and screamed for a least a half an hour. The faces around me were blank. Why weren't they talking, I wanted to know who the fuck they thought they were, staring at me like a frog being dissected. The only person I knew in the room was Adam. I started to hyperventilate, so they got me some water and calmed me down a bit.

here...