Growing Up - NG Contest Entry

”Wake up!”

The shout came as a surprise to the young girl, who quickly sat up in her bed after shaking off the cumbersome sheets of sleep that had previously overtaken her. She took a quick glance around the room, terror at not knowing where she was having consumed her. She was soon able to remember that this was her bedroom.

”I’ll smash this fucking door in if you don’t get up, you little wretch!”

The sound of the old, gruff voice filled the room, rattling some of the smaller pieces of furniture that occupied it. The sleepy young girl found herself pushing off from the bed.

“I’m coming, father,” she said in her quite, fearful voice.

It was not often that she slept over like this, but every time she did it sent her father into a fit of rage. Her father was a man of many evils, but he felt this was justified by his strict adherence to what he saw as a moral code.

The small girl was soon hurriedly tossing on her day clothes after slipping free of the dirty night gown that she normally slept in. Her mission was interrupted by only the occasional shout or chide from her father on the other side of the wooden door, which had been weakened by years of prior abuse.

”Hurry the hell up! I don’t have all day, Samantha.”

Samantha. That was her name. She only remembered that she had been given a name at birth when her father was kind enough to use it in place of a well-chosen curse word. It wasn’t a unique or interesting name, just as she was not a unique or interesting person.

Samantha stepped out into the hallway, attempting to button the last binds of her overcoat before she stood upright, facing her father.

“I am ready for the work day, father.”

***

This girl is an idiot, a waste of space,
I should have worn protection in my spontaneous haste.
I was never meant to be a father, this isn't right for me,
I was never as good a person as she claimed to be.
Tabitha, her mother, struck ill so long ago,
Now she was dead and buried nearly six feet below.
This is my entire fault; this girl is my punishment,
She’ll be dead before this day is over, I promise it.

***

The WBF warehouse was a building constructed in early 2014. It was built for general production and goods transportation purposes. Its creation was funded primarily by the government of the United Kingdom, and some assorted charitable causes around the country. This building, and the corporation that controlled it, had a history of cruelty to not only their workers, but to the customers that bought their products as well.

During the construction of this warehouse, there were many human rights organizations calling for a stop to its creation, many voicing concerns over the dangerous conditions that it seemed to put workers in. Not unpredictably, the building had a morbidly high casualty rate of nearly three hundred lives a day. Many workers voiced discontent with their position in the facility, but the controlling corporation, WBF, met this only with more cruelty and torture for its workers.

Many outbreaks occurred in the building’s history, usually ending in the mass bloodshed of the workers involved. When this issue was brought up in public cases, the government denied any involvement and WBF was pardoned of any crime.

One of those many outbreaks occurred on May 2nd, 2017. This outbreak was referred to as ‘The Day of Liberation’ due to the fact that it was the fifth and final outbreak under WBF Corporation.

***

Report: 11-A13 “Day of Liberation”
Date: 5/2/17
Control Sector: Alpha Two, Worker Containment

Details: Alarm bells rang at 0800 hours in correspondence to a prisoner outbreak in sector Alpha Two. Sector security reported nearly thirty workers involved in the outbreak before being overpowered and losing communication with area control. Two (2) armed security teams were dispatched to Alpha Two to contain the situation and report on damages. Contact with both teams was lost shortly after dispatch, and one (1) member of the second team was able to return with severe wounds and blunt trauma to his face and neck.

Upon the return of the team member in question, Jason Micheals (#3137), he reported that the horde of workers had since increased in size, and spanned nearly 60 members. He died before emergency medical services could be provided.

Sector Alpha Two was set to code red and Mobile Task Force Bravo-Niner (“Weeping Angels”) was dispatched to control the situation. Upon observation, Bravo-Niner was able to report that the leader of the uprising was one Eugene Greenwood (P-2793), who is noted for being one of the few workers to have a child (Samantha Greenwood, P(M)-0097).

Sector containment was lost shortly after. MTF Bravo-Niner lost contact with control after reporting three KIA’s.

Target One has been changed. All Mobile Task Forces will now refer to Eugene Greenwood (P-2793) by the tag of Target One.

***

Pain.

All I knew of the world was pure, utterly unfiltered pain and misery.

It had been a flash, one minute I was storming the security center of the prison block, and the next minute I was on my back filled with bullet holes. From what I could tell of the scene, my comrades had managed to either kill or wound all of the security agents in the room, but that wasn’t saying much considering that all I could see were ceiling tiles.

I attempted to push myself up into a sitting position, but pain shot through my body like a lightning bolt. I could feel an almost paranormal cold flowing over me, and the pain was fading fast. My daughter, Samantha, sat beside me. She sat silently, not crying or whimpering at all. It was almost unnatural, the way she stared at me with unfeeling eyes, as if she were watching a violent movie play out in front of her.

“You’re going to die, aren’t you father?” Samantha asked in a dull, careless voice.

“Y-Yes...I think I am, Samantha,” I muttered, unable to do much more than gaze at her as I felt the warmth seeping from my many wounds. I could feel my eyes becoming droopy, almost unbearable to keep open. It felt like a strange, surreal sleep was wafting over me.

“C’mon, we’ve gotta keep movin’,” one of the other prisoners said, scooping Samantha up and swinging her about, hurrying off towards the exit that led to the next security section.

“Goodbye…” I said in an awkward tone, closing my eyes.

Goodness, I’m tired.