Guess I should put a warning in, There is Violence and Death.
Index-
X Prologue
X Chapter One
X Chapter Two
X Chapter Three
X Chapter Four
X Chapter Five
X Chapter Six
X Chapter Seven
A shrill bell awakes me. My hands involuntarily clasp my ears against it’s piercing noise, but they are useless to stop the pain it creates.
This is the fiftieth bell. It is just like everyone before it, positioned exactly one hour after the last. Just like everyone before it it will last a full three minutes. After, I’ll get a headache that stay around for who knows how long. Then, if I’m lucky, I might get some sleep. For a little while at least. Why am I here? I didn’t pass the test.
The test is designed to find the best of civilisation. Those who don’t pass are sent here to The Facility.
The year was 3621 and the world was overcrowded. Famine, disease and poverty were seemingly unavoidable epidemics. In an attempt to control the problem, birth of children was monitored. The rule of one child per couple was introduced. At first people were eager to do their patriotic part to save the world, but it wasn’t long before the rules were broken and the problem returned.
Instead the P.C.D (Population Control Department) came up with a new plan. They would allow parents to have more children on the condition each child passed a test on their twelfth birthday. The test covered many areas, from genetic potential to basic education to skills learnt during life. If you passed they returned you to your family and you lived happily ever after, but now they had a new problem. What to do with those who didn’t pass?
Launched only a year later, this place is their solution. After it was determined ‘unethical’ to simply kill every child who failed, they established The Facility. Here at The Facility children are tortured in various ways until they are either utterly mad or begging for death. At this point our torturers find it ethical to kill us.
My particular torture consists on being stuck in a pitch black room with zero sleep and bells that hurt my ears. So far I’m holding out, but I’ll admit the thought of just giving in has passed through my mind.
The test soon became what haunts childrens dreams. Years before a childs twelfth birthday the test is the subject of all thoughts. It inspires fear, paranoia, nightmares and sleepless nights. The test is a cruel evil everyone is forced to take.
I try to remember who I am and recall memories of my past, anything to keep me sane. Like most who fail the test I come from a poorer area of the country. Though the population problem has decreased substantially, food is still scarce and very high priced. The richer children have time to learn and practice the skills needed to pass the test, but we poorer children don’t have such luxuries. We spend our time hunting and gathering enough food to stay alive. Because of this those of us who are lucky enough to make it to the age of the test often don’t even know how to read and/or write, let alone have some amazing skill. We struggle to stay alive each day, there’s no time to prepare for the test.
The ringing finally stops but the headache it brings on makes me want to beg for it to begin again.
I honestly didn’t think the Facility would be this bad. Of course I have heard the rumours of what happens here my whole life, but they all varied. The only definite information anyone had was it was a place where they brought failed children and those children never left. That none specific information left a lot of room for imagination, but it was horrifying just how close the stories, that were designed to scare children, were to the truth.
Salty tears roll into my open mouth as a anguished groan escapes me. The darkness swallows me as my exhausted brain ignores the pain and commands me into unconsciousness. Even while I slept I knew this small escape wouldn’t last long. Soon the bell would ring again to call me back to the waking world. Then again and again the cycle will repeat like clockwork. When will this stop? Will this torture ever end? Or will this pee-soaked floor become my final resting place?
