Chapter 1

Silence.

The thick silence that pressed into my eardrums was enough to drive anyone mad. Anyone with a slighter grip on reality would have never survived Solitary. It was the place where the worst of the worst went to live out their sentence, or lack of, until the time came to be floated. As it turned out I was lumped in with this group, not a very promising group at that.

I knew rationally that there were others on this floor, Clarke Griffin for example. She had been a surprising arrest shortly before my own, something about treason. That was even more baffling as the last time I checked, Clarke was the Ark's golden child. Even knowing that I wasn't the only person in Solitary, it was as if I were an island unto myself in here.

357 days. I hadn't spoken to another person in 357 days. The figures were marked on my wall with scratches made by gouging into the metal with a sharp piece of glass. The days I spent in confinement have made me harder than the days outside.

I was leaner than when I had gone in for we were only served one meal a day in the Sky Box. The food wasn't the same you would buy at the cafeteria with ration points, they were nourishment bars also known as nouro bars to the masses. The bars were about the size of one's palm, hard packed into squares, and entirely tasteless. Most of the kids in the Sky Box, myself included, had grown up on the low cost bars and had easily adjusted to solely dieting on them.

Even so my body was more muscular after my arrival, I had little else to do and was determined not to grow soft due to my isolation. Rigorously I would do push ups, sit ups, chin ups, jogging, anything I could to build endurance and strength. It was likely I would never need my athleticism but I was determined not to be floated without a fight, and I planned to give them a hell of one.

In Solitary hygiene wasn't quite as tended to as it was within the Ark's community. We were let out once a week to shower under heavy supervision and only singularly. The trips were short and we weren't provided with soap or any other luxuries. At first I had tried to keep my hair clean and untangled. It wasn't as easy to do as it seemed, in the end I settled for twisting my hair into dreads and giving my scalp a wash with the lukewarm water when it came time to wash.

I had worn the same clothes I was arrested in for most of my sentence, though surprisingly I was given new clothing last week. I was given a jacket and boots amongst the new clothing leading me to question just what they were planning. The heat in this section of the Ark didn't work as well, it was colder and the oxygen was thinner. Something told me the clothes weren't for keeping warm in my cell, my birthday was in three weeks after all. After that I would be floated and the clothes redistributed. What was the point of giving me new clothes only to have them given away three weeks later?

My head snapped up as my cell door opened, green eyes widening at the sight of two guards stepping through. One stayed next to the door, guarding it, the other approached with a metal box in hand. I scooted back into the corner almost subconsciously, wrapping thin arms around my knees in defense.

"Prisoner 295, please stand and face the wall." He spoke matter of factly, eyes locked on the wall in front of him.

"Why?" I almost didn't recognize the hoarse rasp as my own voice. I hadn't spoken in so long it was a wonder I hadn't forgotten how.

He didn't repeat the request, whipping out a shock baton with a well practiced flourish and holding it out in my direction. Scrambling, I got to my feet and faced the wall silently. I squeezed the shard of glass in my left hand, prepared to use it if need be.

"Hold out your right arm."

With furrowed brows, I tentatively stretched out my arm only to jerk it back at the sharp biting pain. The silver bracelet was simple looking, more like a fancy handcuff than anything. A hand clamping on my shoulder caused me to flinch, turning and being guided out of my cell roughly by the guard. Jerking from his grasp as we exited, I stared wide eyed at the scene unfolding around me.

Chaos.

Teenagers from every hallway struggled against the hands of the guards, some yelling obscene insults at the uniformed men. A handful of teens went along willingly, seeming at peace with whatever was happening. I wasn't about to be killed so easily.

I stumbled purposefully, the guard holding my shoulder loosening his grip considerably as he hauled me back to my feet. Ripping free of his hold, I slammed my knee into his groin and dancing out of grasp as he fell to his knees in pain. Turning to his partner, I stabbed the glass into his hand as he reached for his baton. With a pained screech he too fell, leaving me the perfect opening to take off sprinting down the hall.

I could hear their shouts behind me but I was soon lost in the bedlam, running until all noise was left behind me. I all but dove into a supply closet, squeezing behind a rack of cleaning supplies.

My escape was short lived I knew, they would find me. Maybe I could somehow steal a dropship, even a faulty one would be preferable to floating at the hands of my father's murderers. Just as I was about to find an air vent, one that would hopefully lead to engineering, footsteps sounded. I moved back behind the rack, holding my breath as they passed by the closet.

Tense seconds that felt like years passed, a breath of relief escaping my lips as the footsteps carried on. Moving to look for an air vent once more, I stilled at the sudden crash as I knocked several bottles from the shelf by accident. The footsteps paused.

No, no, no; keep going. The footsteps turned back, striding over to my closet purposefully. I flattened to the wall as if it could open up and hide me, a hand coming up to shield my eyes as the door opened suddenly and the light blinded me.

"I've found prisoner 295!"

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I was guided back to the procession of orderly teens, lined up silently for their deaths. Some sported shock burns, their muscles still trembling from the batons. A few eyes met mine, some held pity as they took in the fresh split lip and bruises decorating my face; courtesy of the disgruntled guard I had stabbed.

I was shoved roughly into line, nearly tripping over my feet in the process. A young guard with olive skin and slicked black hair, steadied me gently. I jerked away from him, noting that he looked rather young. He had deep brown eyes and his face was scattered with freckles that made him look younger than he really was.

The line began to move forward, the line of prisoners being shuffled into the compartment slowly. I lifted my chin as I passed, staring into the eyes of every guard and Council member as I strode past them.

Look at me. See my face and remember it at night when you feel guilty. Remember that you murdered one hundred children today and I hope to God you see my face, that it haunts you for the rest of your days.

Turning away with an expression of disgust as none of them would meet my eyes, I was led towards a ladder by the young guard. Directed into a seat by the guard in the upper level, I strapped myself in despite the confusion. Why were they putting us into seats if they were just going to suffocate us?

As the others filed in, I stared around the compartment curiously as I searched for any clue to the Council's plans. My eyes widened as I realized that this was a dropship, not a floatation chamber. Another thought hit me like the weight of a thousand pounds.

We were going to the ground.