Highest Rank: #397 in Science Fiction
Number Two wanted to go outside. The window taunted her. Teased her.
She begged everyday. They always said no.
He was outside. He was waiting for her. But she'd never come.
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Mylo paced in her room. Ian was in intensive care, and his father had been fired and his family evicted from the country.
She had been moved to a cement room with no window, and the only way to get out was a manhole on the ceiling. No ladder. As far as she knew, this room was several stories below the basement, hence why her food was cold every time.
They'd changed all her meals back to nutriloaf, and onl delivered once a day. Abbey was fine, a guard had told her, since she wasn't involved in any of her 'escapade'.
Now Mylo was back to square one. She didn't have any hope anymore, and she hardly had to clue to what the word 'hope' even meant anymore.
Ian was going to die, and she'd be stuck here until she died. Just lovely.
The manhole opened and her food dropped down. "Here kiddo."
Mylo stopped pacing and looked up at the dark skinned guard.
"Sir, what's hope mean?" she asked. The man blinked.
"Well, it's, it's the feeling you get when you know something's gonna happen. Like, how you know someone will come for you." he explained.
"Thank you." Mylo replied quietly. The manhole shut with a clang and she pecked the nutriloaf with her foot.
Cold. Again. Shrugging, Mylo bent down and nudged the loaf with her toe. It squished. Mylo gagged. Calling it disgusting was an understatement...
OKAY THIS IS EXTREMELY SHORT BUT I POSTED OKAY???? Also that is meh face!
