"I'm waking up to ash and dust.
I wipe my brow and I sweat my rust.
I'm breathing in the chemicals.
I'm breaking in, shaping up, then checking out on the prison bus.
This is it, the apocalypse.
Whoa.
I'm waking up, I feel it in my bones.
Enough to make my systems blow.
Welcome to the new age, to the new age."
-Radioactive, Imagine Dragons
*****
At age 20, Ash Growins isn't quite sure how she's still alive.
She was 17 when her parents were floated and 18 when she was arrested. But somehow, she avoided the same fate. A clerical error, or perhaps a deliberate one, had marked her as 15, not 18, saving her from execution.
It wasn't like she was going to correct them.
For the last three years, she's mostly been confined to the same four grey walls. Her cell rarely opens, and the days blend into each other--a monotonous cycle of waiting, fearing, and hoping. Ash has learned to live each day as if it might be her last. Because, in reality, it could be. She doesn't even know what her records list as her birthday.
She spends most of her time alone. Roommates have come and gone, marked older than her - taken out for review, never to return. Lately, no matter how small the crime, the outcome is the same: death.
Ash knows her time might be coming too, but she tries not to dwell on it. Instead, she focuses on the hum of the oxygen machines that keep them all alive. As a teenager, she used to hate the mechanical drone—back then, it reminded her of the endless hours she spent working on machines, fixing and tinkering alongside her coworkers. Now, though, it's a strange comfort. In the skybox, the constant noise means life is still clinging on.
But today, something feels off.
It's too quiet.
Normally by this time, the synchronized stomp of the guards' boots would echo down the hall as they bring breakfast.
Another minute passes, and a knot of unease twists in Ash's gut. The Ark, the massive space station she calls home, thrives on routine and perfection—especially in the Skybox. Here, where the Ark's rulebreakers are held, Chancelor Jaha ensures precision in every step.
For the three years Ash has been prisoner 87, nothing has ever broken the rhythm.
Until now.
An hour later, the sound of boots finally echoes down the hall, and Ash's cell door slams open. Relief floods her—just breakfast, she assumes.
"Thank goodness," she says, turning towards a familiar guard with a grin. "I was starting to get worried—"
Her words die in her throat. Not one, but three guards stand before her, two with shock batons crackling with electricity, and the third holding a box filled with metal bracelets.
That paired with the sound of shouts and struggles from the hallway makes fear settle into her stomach like a rock.
"What's going on?"
The guards ignore her question. "Prisoner 87, turn around and face the wall."
"What? What is this? I'm not 18 yet!" she blurts, clinging to the lie that has saved her for this long. But the guards are unmoved.
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somewhere | b.blake ✔️
Fanfiction"somewhere there's peace, they just have to find it." in which a girl whose smile is the brightest of them all finds herself falling in love with a curly haired boy on a planet that isn't supposed to be survivable. [SEASONS ONE TO TWO COMPLETED] hig...
