"State your name for the record"
"Melantha Mercantile"
"Do you plead guilty or innocent"
"Guilty"
"You'll be ok, You'll be ok"
Melantha walks past Abby Griffin who is hovering over her unconscious daughter.
Head held high Melantha prepares for her death. She along with ninety nine other teens are supposed to be going to the ground. The ground which is covered in radiation.
Melantha has been waiting for this for two thousand and thirty eight days. Waiting to get floated.
This way may be less painful, she thinks.
Although Melantha has never been the -smartest. Never the smartest. Never the prettiest. Never the most thoughtful. Never the funniest.
She was never enough.
She is never enough.
She sits down strapping herself down as the room floods with kids whom she has never met. Though being in solitary for over three years doesn't give you a lot of opportunities to meet new people.
She stays quiet as the kids around her whisper and cry. Just get this over Melantha thinks.
Stupid Chancellor Jaha pops up on the screen saying some nonsense about how we are expendable.
Gee thanks.
The oldest here is probably Melantha and seeing she's eighteen that's not very kind to say to children.
How has she not been floated yet you ask. Well that's a good question. One that Melathna has been wondering for months. The dropship jerks.
Here they go.
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