The area around Zella was extremely cold. The mattress was like a lump of coal, uncomfortably cold. She woke up with a shiver, jolting awake in an instant. There were four more people around her, all shivering away on their cold makeshift beds. She looked up by the door and to the clock.
'06:05 - 7/7/88'
The seventh of July, the day of the tagging. Zella sat straight upright on her mattress. It had only bed twenty-eight days since the last tagging. It was too early for the tagging, right? Either way, Zella was absolutely sure that the tagging would be today and not to her surprise, she was right.
SLAM
YOU ARE READING
#46018
FantasyTagged, chipped, and shuffled into line. That's Zella's everyday reality. They're herded like cattle, to be treated like cattle. For centuries that's all Zella's people have known. They're the low-life's in this world. The ones without a purpose...
