Out of the picture

Selene was escorted back to her prison room by two guards, with her hands cuffed in front of her. Her legs were weak. Every step felt heavy.

No baby.

No voice.

No comfort.

Just the same concrete walls.

The whispers began immediately the guards took off the handcuffs and pushed her forward into her cell.

"There she is."

"1165 is back."

"She came back empty-handed."

“Where is the baby?”

Some prisoners came nearer, smiling. Selene lowered her head and headed towards her ward. She didn't want to hear them. She wanted her bed. She would like to go to bed and pretend that the world was not there.

But prisoners did not mind how she felt.

A tall inmate who had braided hair walked in the way of Selene. “I heard you knocked out a dead one,”

she said, and everyone could hear her.

Some other person came in. "Could not even bring something useful in the world.”

Laughter followed.

Selene said nothing. She walked around them.

“She cannot speak,” somebody sneered, and made a guttural noise with her throat. "Just like this--rrhh-khhh."

More laughter.

Selene walked to her ward and sneaked in. Her bed was the top bunk. She was too weak to get up, and lay down on the bottom one, and curled slowly on her side. Her stomach ached. Her head felt heavy.

She closed her eyes.

Perhaps, they would leave her alone had she remained quiet.

But peace didn't last long.

The metal door opened with a bang.

"There she is!"

Two inmates picked up Selene before she could sit up.

“No…” she tried to beg.

"Get her up!" one shouted.

They dragged her off the bed and began pushing her to the bathroom.

Some of the inmates grumbled she believed that she was safe because she was pregnant.

She believed that she was able to get out of work.

She expected to get sympathy.

They dragged her into the bathroom and pushed her to the wet and tiled floor.

Selene attempted to sit up, and someone pushed her shoulder down.

She was surrounded by a crowd of women. Their expressions were cold. All sent here for committing great crimes against humanity.

The tallest prisoner came forward. “You believe you are superior to us because you had been an artist out there? Because you had one or two shows? You believe you are better?”

Another scoffed. "Artist? Please. She couldn't even talk now."

One of them said, she was not an artist. She was a drug peddler who was posing as a singer.

Somebody called her a fake singer, and she held her nose up and talked in a squeaky voice. “Oh, see me, I am 1165, I would like to be famous.”

The bathroom was full of laughter.

Selene put her hand to her stomach. It still hurt from labor. One of the inmates kicked her thigh, as she attempted to move back.

"Don't move."

The tall one bent over and roughly grabbed the chin of Selene, and raised her face.

“Look at this,” she said, turning Selene’s face left and right as she took a good look at it. "What happened to your face? Did someone melt it? Did you get hit with a truck filled with ugly?”

Selene's breathing sped up. She made attempts to withdraw, but the woman clung to her.

"You wanna sing with this face?" she mocked. “Fine then, sing.”

"Sing for us, 1165!" another shouted.

"Yes! Sing!" someone else repeated.

They all laughed again.

Selene opened her mouth and made an attempt to speak.

"Hh... nn... stop--"

The silence was interrupted, hardly a murmur.

The prisoners broke into greater laughter.

She is more like a tractor.

"She sounds like a dying rat."

“Hush it,” one replied and hit Selene on the cheek.

Selene's head jerked sideways. Her eyesight momentarily went blurry.

"Hit her again!" someone yelled.

The giant inmate hit her right shoulder. The blow pushed Selene off on her side.

Another blow fell on the other side.

Then another.

And another.

“Stop trying to hide,” somebody said and kicked her side.

“Oh, she is crying, “another sneered.

“Perhaps she is still acting like she is weak,” someone added. “Perhaps she is smuggling drugs once again. Tell us girl! Do you have coke for us?”

She was kicked again on the ribs.

Selene grunted, but scarcely audible.

Her head started spinning. The walls began to tilt. Her breaths came out shallow.

One of the prisoners sneered back. "She's going to pass out."

"Let her," another said. "She deserves it."

Then there was a voice in the rear.

"Wait."

Selene lifted her eyes weakly.

The woman came forward gradually. She was shorter than others, and with a scar on her forehead. She stuck into her boot and came out with something shiny.

A knife.

Selene's heart dropped.

The room got quiet.

The lady cowered before her. “You were not saved by pregnancy, she said. "Nothing will save you."

Selene shook her head weakly. "No... pl... no--"

Her voice cracked painfully.

The woman raised the knife.

Someone laughed nervously. "You really gonna do it?"

“She deserves it,” the woman answered. “ I had to do all her work whilst she was at the hospital having that dead child.”

Selene attempted to crawl away, but her physical form was too weak. Her vision doubled. Her ears rang.

The woman caught Selene by the shirt, dragged her nearer.

And plunged the knife deep in the stomach of Selene.

Selene gasped silently. No shriek came forth, but a gasp of pain.

Hot blood was sprayed on her shirt and the floor.

Her eyes rolled back.

The walls of the bathroom became obscured and went into dark forms.

Voices became faint.

Someone said, "She's done."

Someone else added, "Leave her. Let’s get out of here before we are caught!”

Then everything went black.