Beyond the Cell
Sixteen-year-old Sonata Wilde is living in Hell.
Not literally Hell, more like a prison stashed away in the mountains known as The Cell. All mythical beings were banished to live here nine years ago, segregated from the humans. Being trapped in captivity is breaking her down and the temptation of escaping grows stronger, regardless of what it might cost her.
No one has ever made it out of The C More
I stood up from my bed, looking through the only window in my concealed room. This place was a living hell. Day after day, year after year, nothing changed. I'd had enough. I refused to live another day inside this place. No longer would I feel trapped, unworthy, or different. All I had to do was get out of here, alive.
I left my bedroom and tried to find my mom. The smell of vanilla cake led me to her disclosed location. “Hey mom, I’m going to go hang out with Razz before dinner,” I called into the kitchen, not caring what her answer would be. It was my sixteenth birthday. Didn’t that automatically mean everyone had to tell me “yes” today?
My mom appeared in the kitchen doorframe and proceeded to shoo me right out of the neighboring dining room like a bug. “Be back before dinner, and bring Razz if you’d like.”
“Okay,” I said. “By the way, could you ask one of the witches to make sixteen flames this year? Blowing out one candle year after year sucks.”
“You saw your cake,” she exclaimed, hitting me with the towel she’d used to dry her hands. “You can never just play along, can you, Sonata?”
I shrugged and took off toward the door. Carefully, I dodged to the left to avoid more beings coming into the house. I hated sharing houses with other mythical beings. It made me feel like my parents and I weren’t really our own family, but more like, “here you go—this was the only spot we could dump you guys—enjoy.” Of course, what did I expect from living inside The Cell? A slight breeze hit my face as I went outside, away from everyone, just the way I liked it.
Looking up ten yards toward the sky, I noticed the gated, electrical wiring sparking off the birds again. After electrocution from the rooftop, the birds proceeded to topple through the layered cross wires below with spastic leaps, and finally hit the ground. Sometimes young beings waited there to play a game with the body.
The electricity wasn’t the only thing keeping us locked up. Human guards roamed outside the barbed electric wire, but never spoke to any of us. We were nothing but an inconvenience to them.
Every metal post hosted miniature boxed cameras that studied a specific area for a number of seconds. The cameras, with two red dots, alternated their time to survey. With a pair of scary eyes, they watched The Cell for strange behavior. Whatever the hell that meant.