Her eyes darted from one corner of the room to the next. She searched for a way to escape this madhouse; this treterous place. Suddenly, the ominous clicking of heels against the cement floor made Myra's heart quicken to an unsteady pace. She reached for the nearest object, the unopened book Girls' Etiquette to Properly Applying Blush.
A tall, regal woman entered into Myra's cell. She gave the same old smile she had on when Myra had first arrived. "Myra, dearest, I have a surprise—" but before Mistress Shamirah could finish, Myra threw the worthless book right at her headmistress. The book fell short, sadly, and flopped onto the floor.
A twenty second pause of silence filled the air, Mistress Shamirah looking at the book, then back at Myra. Her expression contorted disbelief and a slight sense of hurt, but it quickly was masked by anger.
Mistress Shamirah began approaching Myra, her face turning more and more red by the clicking of her heels, and the broken girl desperately tried to get away from her mistress, climbing to her dark corner and huddling into a ball. Myra held her legs tight to her chest as she screamed over Mistress Shamirah's stern words cutting into the green-eyed girl.
The long-faced woman stopped dead in her tracks once Myra had screamed, and stayed silent. The girl rocked back and forth in her dark corner, the only spot in the entire place that no one bothered her. Mistress Shamirah scowled at her.
Myra never knew why that particular spot that she sat at made everyone avoid her like the plague. Maybe it just didn't have enough pink for everyone to ever dare take one foot in it. Myra had hidden in this corner for weeks on end, only leaving for the meals that slid underneath her cell door.
By then the dirty girl was gasping for breath as the mistress seemed to be glaring above Myra's head. She glanced up and saw nothing but air, then looked back at Mistress Shamirah.
"You're lucky this time, girl." The cruel woman spat before walking out of the cell and down the hall, her clicking heels echoing in the silence of Myra's cold concrete-walked room for a bedroom.
Myra sat in silence like every hour of the day, her short memories only keeping her company. She couldn't remember her life before the school. She suspected they probably wiped them to make sure the girls didn't have anything to remember. No life to think back on. No happy memories with family to ever help them keep company.
The only person Myra knew for certain was from her past was Alex, her best friend. At least, that's what Myra and Alex thought of each other when they had first woken up in this prison. Myra sighed, memories of Alex before she turned into one of those pink-wearing zombies flooded back into her brain.
Alex used to be one of those tomboys that never cared what anyone ever thought of her, she loved to get dirty and work hard. And she never cared about pedicures and makeup. That was Myra's memories of Alex. And she was determined to preserve Alex like that, and not the pink-wearing, fingernail painting, makeup-caking girl she was now.
Myra sighed and finally allowed herself to cry, mourning the death of her best friend. Alex, once a lively girl, was now nothing but one of those mindless clones that walked in the hallways. Myra shook her head and opened her eyes to meet another set of blue ones. And then she prepared for a scream, but was quickly muffled by the boy's hand placed firmly over Myra's mouth. 459Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡuvYNYezq4p
