Hell

If only they knew just how messed up their 'education' really was. They treat me like an animal, a weapon more, to be used when needed and then locked back up in a metal walled cage when the target was taken down. They are always watching me, dulling me down with drugs, hoping that drugs will keep me calm and good while they waited for their next target for me. Good thing they are drugging me up so much, it helps with the irrational anger and urge to kill anything that I can see, no kill isn't the word, more like destroy beyond repair. I am not just a killer, not anymore at least, now I am more of an exterminator, the Destroyer as they call me.

It's been five years since I first came to this hell hole. At first, it was fun but then again everything is fun when you are 11. They actually treated me decently back then too. Everything wasn't near as bad until they found out what I was capable of, I mean really capable of. That's when they got terrified of me because they knew that I could rip up a person with my bare hands....and like it. Sure, I feel like shit after it all, but while I am doing it....I love it. That's why I don't mind the drugs too much; they dull the ever present urge to kill.

I feel so alone in here, the only time I see people are the agents they drug me before they set me loose on some unsuspecting person that pissed someone somewhere and didn't ever imagine that I would happen to them. All the drugs, food and clothes I just find by the back door of the metal house they keep me in. I wouldn't really call it a house because it really is a tiny thing but it is better than nothing.

Everything I do is scheduled. I have to fallow that schedule exactly otherwise they send someone in here to teach me to listen. I wake up at 7:30 every day, I have 30 minutes to shower and get changed and all that. Between 8 and 8:30 I eat breakfast and read the modified newspaper that they give me. 8:30 to 10 is when I get to exercise and blow off a bit of steam. From 10 till 12:30 I have self study. I have to keep up my math, science, history and English in that small time, if my grades fall too much they send someone in to keep my motivation up threw any means they want find necessary. I have a one hour lunch time to choke down the crap sandwich and shitty drink they give me. After lunch I have 2 more hours to work on school work. If I am good, I get to watch TV from 3:30 to 5:30 but if they think I am bad I have to sit there and do nothing but maybe go to the bathroom for 2 hours. Then I eat dinner for half an hour and then I have to meditate for an hour. At seven I get ready for bed and then I have to write in this big notebook that serves as a log. Then I have a bit of free time to read or whatever before I go to bed at 9:30.

Ya I know, my life is pretty sad and very uneventful. The only time when that schedule gets changed around is when I am on a mission or when I get rare time outside the confinements of this metallic hell hole. Really, if they don't think that five years of solitary confinement and regular beatings would mess me up for life, then they are more screwed up then I am. This is illegal; I know it from my studies, but apparently either no one cares enough about me to do anything about it or the laws don't apply to me. This really is a messed up country we live in. It isn't repressed or anything so I know that we should all be happy and everything for what we've got, but really there is so much corruption that is covered up that anything could happen to you if you just piss someone off or if you say something that some politician doesn't like. America seems like suck a great place because it has Hollywood and all those rich people and everything, but most people aren't rich. The few people who are rich are really rich and then the gap between the rich and poor just gets bigger and bigger as every year goes by; the rich are simply getting richer and the poor are just getting poorer. Damn capitalist society, but I guess it is better than all of the other options that we have.

*******

A loud bang from the back door disturbed my train of thought. 'Ah crap, I guess that is why I got a reduced amount of drugs today' I think. This is the worst part of my life, the killing part. I hate myself for it but I can't stop myself, not that I would ever want to piss off my captors.

"Hands where I can see them and sit still while I drug you" a commanding voice called from behind me.

I sit there and let my hands fly up just like the good little girl I am trying to act like. I hope that by acting good they'll let me outside in the sun for a bit. Lately I've noticed how much of a ghost I look like, what with my ghost white skin and dark brown hair. I am way too skinny for it to be healthy too but with my power, I still have incredible strength even though I am obviously mal nourished. It looks bad for a 5"7 16 year old girl who isn't a model to be only 110 pounds, I mean... that isn't normal....right?

I hear a slight pop as the needle's cap comes off. I hear the breathing of the agent behind me. It is slightly faster than normal but he is doing a pretty good job at hiding his obvious fear. I feel a slight poke on the back of my neck and then the world goes blurry.