Venus; second planet from the sun, named after the Roman Goddess of love and beauty. the only planet in the Solar System that rotates clockwise. also called: the Morning Star, the Evening Star. Venus finds herself somewhere she never thought she'd b...
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this. fucking. bites.
i looked at the same walls i've looked at since i was 13. over the years, i'd scratched things in them; my name, a drawing of saturn, and the words 'PRISONER 017'
why am i reduced to this boring number? and not even a cool number either, they could've given me '666' or something badass like that, instead i get the number 17. ironically, it's also the only age i'll ever get to fully live out.
sometimes, i would try and think about my life before all of this. having actual dreams and life goals, having friends, talking to mom. i miss her.
anywhere on the Ark felt like a prison, the Sky Box was no different. instead of thinking about before, i started to think about the action that got me sent to the Sky Box. killing my father should've been something that i felt guilty for, but it wasn't.
i wasn't even sure if Jaha told people why i killed my father. which somewhat bothered me. either way, it wouldn't matter much after i was floated.
i heard a noise outside of the door to my room, probably the guard switching out shifts or hell maybe it's my friends, waiting to come get me. a girl could dream i guess. being inside of this wall didn't exactly help my social image.
"Prisoner 017, face to the wall," A guard i cannot identify, probably someone new. i did as told, not before spitting at the feet of the guard. what was it the people of Earth used to say? ACAB? i had a few weeks until i'm eighteen, but i wouldn't be surprised if Jaha decided to kill me now, it's no secret that the Ark is dying. but it doesn't take a seventeen year old inmate to notice that much.
"It's your lucky day, Angelo. You're being sent to the ground," the guard said from behind me. something about that didn't feel right. the ground wasn't safe, and they knew that. so the Ark must really be dying if they'd risk sending people to the ground at all.
in anger, i slammed my head against the guards. and what felt like instantly, i was tranquilized.
how the hell do you write a well constructed story if your life is utter chaos?
