Life's a cliché. It was time to end it. Billie Clark (Female student number seventeen) stood in a clearing. She had a rope around her neck, tied into a thick noose. The noose snaked up and coiled around the thick, dark… you get the picture. Suffice to say that Billie Clark was going to hang herself. No matter what. Nothing was going to stop her. Not even her baby. She remembered when she first found she was pregnant, sitting in a cold dark doctor's office with the police outside. For her protection, they'd said but she swore she saw one of them peeking at her when she was being examined. That had been embarrassing enough without knowing they were watching.
Burning with humiliation she'd had to step out of her gown, her own clothes taken away for forensic examination hours before, without any replacements being provided. Shivering, she'd had to ask one of the nurses for a blanket to cover herself but they laughed in her face. There weren't any blankets. It wasn't a real hospital. Her dad was a doctor, she couldn't bear him finding out what had happened. The 'nurse' may have been a sham but the doctor was real. Billie loved Dr Grimshaw, even his name was a contrast to him. Time and time again she asked herself how someone like him could be working in such a seedy establishment as this. He said he did it for the people, the unfortunates like herself. That's what she liked about him. He was a fully qualified doctor, he could have worked in a proper hospital but he chose to help those who couldn't help themselves.
Then he'd left her alone in a room to talk to the police outside. How come they'd found her miles from any patrol route naked and bleeding? How come they were both covered in blood and one sported a black eye when there had been no other person there? Had Billie done it? What was going on?
That's when they shot him. That's when they came in to finish what they started.
Afterwards they'd locked her in a room with Dr Grimshaw's bleeding corpse. In his hand were test results. Her test results. She was pregnant. Pregnant! She breathed the word to herself. She was going to have a baby. Then she recoiled in horror from herself. This baby was evil. Look what had happened to her that day! She couldn't keep the baby. Then time had passed and she changed. She realised that this baby wasn't to blame for what had happened. She would have to love it and care for it anyway. She would have a duty as a mother.
Then the Battle Royal had started and she had been thrust into the middle of something that was surely the biggest cliché of all. A pregnant rape victim, in a situation where she would have to go against her moral principles and kill her friends to survive. Well she wouldn't. She'd find another way. Find like minded people and join together with them. Form some sort of rebellion. Another cliché. Life is a cliché. So is ending it.
Billie stepped out of the noose and walked away. From the old into the new.
Mr Henderson was on his hands and knees in front of the Boss. She stood over him with two heavies flanking her. 'You failed me Mr Henderson' she cocked the gun in her hand and raised it a little. Not to his head but to a more personal area.
After the Boss shot Mr Henderson's dick off she had him dragged into the 'brig'. The Brig was designed as a holding cell for traitors to the Program. Mr Henderson was a traitor to the Program. She is now in charge. That is not good news for the survivors so far.