TW: this is different from my usual style!!! There is blood, gore, swearing, and death. Do NOT read if you are under 13!
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Day 1:
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This has, and forever will be the worst decision of my godforsaken life. I sit at this desk, in a cramped room. A wooden desk with bloodstains on it. In a room with indents on the thin walls, marking where people have gone crazy.
I work as a prison guard. In a camp where I know there are people dead just miles away. Guards are told not to pick up the bodies. No matter how much they pile up, or stink that smell of flesh under the hot summer sun. Signing up for government work. Hell, I sure paid the price.
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Day 2:
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Children is what makes me go crazy. I see them getting forced to do work under this blasted heat. I’m just one of thousands who are working at these camps. It’s wartime. They needed people.
LTG whatshisname decides to punish the workers if they give slack to anyone. Yeah. I’m starting to think he’d gone crazy as well. Maybe he has.
A child today told me she was thirsty. I was surprised she was still alive. With the drought and everything, most of the children died from overheat or over-working. But this girl did something to me. Maybe it was cause she asked me a question as if I didn’t have a mask over my face like everyone else.
I made sure none of my mates were looking and let her have a sip of my canteen. I saw her face light up like nothing I’ve ever seen before. I snatched it away before she could run off with it. I made sure to do a stroll down the other way after that.
That was the day LTG decided to give me hell.
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Day 4:
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LTG is a fat man. Pink lips. Eats all the shit in the world. Meanwhile, us prison dogs gotta eat cafeteria food. The same food that the prisoners eat, just more of it.
Oh, I hated that man. I hated him so much as to keep a diary. It’s basically illegal for us to do that, safety reasons and all. But it’s not like anyone’s literate or anything here.
A couple days ago, after I had given that girl some water, whatshisname followed me back to our quarters we exchanged some words.
“We got plenty more of you out there. What do you think this camp is for? Housing, complete with food and water? These are criminals, Denver. Whether they be of war or spies. The children are connected to them. Now you better get your shit together or you’re going into the doghouse yourself.”
The fat man turned around and I scoffed, just to spite him. This made him turn around again staring me right in the eye. I should’ve known he was keeping the eye contact so I wouldn’t look down. It felt like a punch, really. I couldn’t tell it was a stab until I looked down.
I hate that man.
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Day 8:
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There was word of some kind of prison revolt. Like hell. I actually laughed when one of my mates repeated the news.
“I might want to revolt with them,” I commented. The guy gave me some kind of stare. We were in the cafeteria, so our helmets were off. I wished they were on.
“That better be a joke or you might see your own foot hanged up as art in our dorm if LTG finds out,” Chris remarked.
“You wish you could see my foot every morning,” I laughed, then shoved bread in my mouth. I didn’t know these guards were actually loyal.
Chris laughed. “Like hell, Denver, like hell.”
I slowly rubbed my thigh. It was wrapped under my pants. The nurse had to stitch it and it was barely coming together. I rubbed it some more. It hurt.
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Day 9:
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More word of the revolt. This time people took it more seriously. We were told to keep watch in the spies camp. They were sneaky. We needed to take extra care and make sure that revolt never happens.
While I’m writing this I’m trying not to cry. I’m trying to write as if it’s a normal day but its not. The little girl, the one who asked me for the water, is dead. I knew who killed her. Her parents were spies. She was skinny. Wasn’t of much use anyway. As I walk through the endless rooms, meant for cattle, I look down at the former spies. Sometimes I stop and stare. I wondered who her parents where. They were all equally as sad. I couldn’t tell the difference.
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Day 11:
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Extra security. More talk of revolt. I am becoming numb to the fleas that are flying around the bodies that lay on the dead grass. I wonder if some of the prisoners are going to try. I wonder if they know there are electric fences. I wonder where the children are going to go.
No more stitches. Now there is just a bruise. This bunch of prisoners are getting really skinny. Chris got promoted. I don’t see him in my dorm anymore. I don’t have a clue of where he went. I will miss the guy. I don’t want to know what kind of person I will have to sleep with.
Sometimes I think of the little girl. Her face. Sometimes I want to kill LTG when I pass him in the halls. Sometimes I want to die.
There is a lot of me in the world. It just doesn’t matter.
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Day 12:
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Today I passed by two people who looked a lot like that little girl. This time I stopped, my boots hitting the hard wooden floor with a clunk. I stared right into their cell, my eyes burning. They gazed at me, their eyes weak. When they blink, it is long and slow. As if every time their eyes closes they want to fall asleep.
No words were exchanged. They knew the power a guard held. I could see lash marks on their backs when they shower. I spun around and continued walking. I was looking for the people that I had overheard whispering about a revolt.
I stopped at one cell, surveying the contents. All women, one guy. These women were young adults. I could tell. Their arms weren’t bony yet. Their hair was shaved like everyone else to prevent lice going around.
“A revolt, huh?” I said, waiting to see their reaction. They had none. I was waiting for a reaction, but they just looked confused.
“You think we’re out of our minds?” one girl asked, catching me by surprise. She continued. “You can beat us, whip us, get rid of our clothes, cut our hair off but you will never, ever, strip us of our pride. We are people, just like you. And our people are coming to rescue us,” she spat as if the sentence was poison.
“Now listen here, you good-for-nothing,” I commented, but whatever I had to say fell down my throat. I didn’t know what to say. So I huffed and left.
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Day 17:
Everything happened so fast.
I am writing from an Inn in a town far away, if that gives you an inkling of what happened.
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I woke up yesterday with the sounds of sirens. My new roommate yelled at me to get up as he was leaving the door. I got up and took my knife and my gun. That was it. I knew it was the revolt. We all ran out of our quarters and immediately made our way out to the spies camp. Somehow, they had gotten ahold of other officer’s guns and were shooting at anything and everything. They didn’t hit any of us.
I was ordered to go to the cells to make sure they weren’t letting anyone out. It was dawn.
I came face-to-face with a spy. I didn’t have my gun at the ready, and they were ready to shoot. I felt so stupid for not running with it. It was slung around my back, but I had no time to aim.
“Don’t move,” he said, the barrel of the gun pointed right at my head.
I did more than not moving. I quickly dropped the gun, knowing he could’ve shot me right then and there. I kicked it towards him, my gun sliding across the wooden floor. I put my hands up.
“I hate certain people around here as much as you do,” I declared.
“Helmet off.”
I took my helmet off and continued. “Just put the gun down and aim it where it needs to be aimed. I can help you. I can help you escape,” I breathed.
The man picked up his gun and turned his head back around to the cell and started unlocking it. He had the keys. I had no idea how. Soon, five other people were out, and they were not running out, but through the south entrance. They had this planned.
“Are you going to come with us? We have no time to wait for you,” the strange man asked.
“Just go,” I said. “I have some personal things to take care of.”
And then we went in our own directions. I still had my knife in my pocket. I knew what I had to do.
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I made it back to our quarters, the sirens still sounding outside. Harsh, dark red lights faded in and out as I quietly lurked through the dead hallways. My knife was clutched in my hand. I saw the room of the LTG. The biggest room of them all. I smiled.
Sweat dripped down my forehead. I had hoped that only one guy was in this room. The guy that I wanted. I put my hand behind my back and opened the door.
“Why aren’t you making sure those rodents aren’t getting away?” the LTG barked almost immediately. I could’ve asked him the same. But I didn’t.
I made my way closer and closer to him.
“Why did you kill that girl?” I asked. LTG looked up at me from his armchair.
“What are you saying?”
“Why are you killing innocent children?” I yelled, and I did my first stab, in his back.
He gasped.
“Why?” I stabbed him again.
He yelled for help.
“Why? Why? Why?” Each time I asked him a question I got sprayed with his blood. Blood poured everywhere the more I stabbed him. Tears rolled down my cheeks, but I laughed. Finally. I was free.
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We were free.
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