Clarke
Blowing on the finished drawing, Clarke made sure that no chalk remains were scattered on the floor before pushing herself off of the ground with a grunt. She had been in this confinement room for over a year and hadn't been fed healthily, therefore her strength had dropped. Yet, she fought through all 389 days with all of her remaining strength, promising she would fight her father's case until her execution was finalized.
Dropping onto her thin mattress on her metal bunk, Clarke pulled on the end of her frayed t-shirt and glanced at her new drawing on the center of the ground. At least it was a new sight. She'd been in the same room since the Guard stormed into her home and ripped her dad off of the sofa. She still remembers fighting to get them to stop, but that's what got her arrested; her persistence of saying he'd done nothing wrong. But, yet, she didn't regret it.
Continuing to look around, Clarke pressed her lips together. It wouldn't be long before they came to kill her too, her birthday wasn't for another month, so, she was sure she had some time, but isn't waiting for death worse than dying? In a way, she was glad her dad hadn't had to suffer that way, it would've killed her. The way he went- she and her mum got to say goodbye, and were the last people for him to see. But, it still hurt.
Lying back on the bed, Clarke shivered lightly. The Ark wasn't particularly bothered about the comfort or safety of their prisoners. Their lives became expendable the second we committed out crime. So, if the oxygen supply gets any worse, which is the reason why Clarke had been locked up, they'd be the first dead. Clarke turned towards the wall by her bed, on which she'd been counting her days in tallies, and squeezed her eyes shut in an attempt to keep warm.
The idea of warmth dragged Clarke back into her dream world - the Ground, or 'Earth' as it's formally labelled. The idea was the only thing enough to make her smile - the sun on her back, the warm water in between her toes and her parents either side of her, laughing.
A sob wracking her chest, Clarke let the tears slip down her cheeks. Until she heard the metal lock on her door shift, with two swift movements of her hand she wiped the tears away and shot up off of her bed. As she turned she came face to face with a Guardsman. "Prisoner 319. Face the wall"
"What is this?" Clarke inquired.
"Hold up your right arm." The Guardsman instructed, ignoring Clarke's question. His fellow Guardsman held up a metal box which contained four metal cuffs.
"No, no! It's not my time! I don't turn eighteen for another month!" Not listening to a word she said, the guards continued to approach her; the first hold the cuff open and the others with his taser in hand. As Clarke began to struggle, he extended it, but she freed herself of the first guard and pushed past the guard with the taser before they could react.
When she ran out into the hall, the light burned her eyes, yet she didn't stop until her mother caught her arm, "Mum, they're trying to kill me! They're going to execute me! It's not my time, mum!"
"Clarke, Clarke, you need to calm down!" Clarke stared at her mother in shock, calm down?! Was she going crazy?!
"Mum! They're trying to kill me! How could I-?"
"They're not going to execute you! They're sending you to the Ground, all one hundred of you." Unable to do anything but stare at her mother in shock, Clarke didn't say anything.
She could hear the guards approaching at this time she made no move to run, instead she held up her right arm and let the Guardsman attach the cuff to her arm. All of a sudden, Dr. Lahiri's voice sounded behind Clarke, "My apologies, but this is just in case you…" That was all Clarke heard when Dr. Lahiri pushed a needle into her shoulder and she blacked out.