Jumpsuit 101

I look in the mirror to see myself clad in an orange jumpsuit, the number ‘101’ is embedded into the chest, and by now, probably my mind too.

The clattering of footsteps breaks me from my reverie as a large procession of similar clothed men marches through the hallway. A red light flickers on my wristband, and I join them. We walk on for what seems like miles, down the endless corridor; finally we reach a large auditorium. Everyone takes a seat on the steel chairs as a video is suddenly projected onto a wall.

In the video stands an old man, he wears myriad of emblems and medals, and holds onto a staff of some sort for support.

“Welcome prisoners” he says, in a deep, clear voice.

“This is where you will spend the rest of your lives, the ship will be sent on a course to an unknown area of the galaxy, this is restitution for the sins you have committed, you have proven you can not function in a civilized society”

The rest of his words tumble into oblivion, as I spit in disgust.

“Civilized society?”

View this story's 1 comments.