[ WP ] There has been a worldwide infertility epidemic , in which the few fertile people are enslaved to propagate the human race , however , a massive slave revolt occurs .

***FYI This is kinda morbid and may trigger one or two people*** 
 
 `` That one. I want her.'' 
 
 The voice was masculine and commanding - he was talking about me. I opened my eyes slowly, letting the light fill my retinas. I stared blankly for a couple of seconds and then raised my head to the clear window that sat in front of me. The man that was talking just briefly glanced towards me, but my movement was beneath his interest. He was heavier set, dressed in rich silks and had a golden pendant hanging around his neck. 
 
 I eyed him with a blank interest – maybe he would be next. I felt so empty, so used. He didn ’ t even glance back at me, that ’ s how low, how degraded we were to him. Us, slaves to the rest of humanity, the child bearers, the mothers. There were so few of us left – our children were given away at the moment of birth. It had been this way for years – a social divide. When the epidemic of infertility occurred, a rift appeared between the childbearing women and those who were barren. When a girl is born, she is tested, and if she is proven to be fertile she is sent to facility, the world of slavery. I ’ ve been here forever – I was born and raised here. I don ’ t even know the slave that birthed me, all I knew is that I was here as a breeding machine. It had been 12 years since I had my first child at the ripe age of 11. Since then, I ’ d had 11 children. 
 
 Looking down, I glanced at my hands. They were slender and boney, too thin to be called normal. My breath quavered, I ’ d lost a lot of weight after my last child. I tentatively ran my hand down my chest, between my breasts, and paused at the bottom of my rib cage. The thin surgical gown that I wore opened to the front so that any of the prospective buyers could inspect my body. I held my breath, gathering the courage to look down onto my stomach. 
 
 The last pregnancy I had was triplets – and I was too small to have all three of them. My throat bobbed as I gulped, sneaking a glance at my abdomen. A knotted silvery scary ran down the center of it, starting from my stomach area and ending between my hips. I guess I should have been glad, the C-section was a success, and all three of my children made it into the world. I never had a chance to hold them – they weren ’ t mine. They were to go to their new parents. Instead, I felt empty – the scar that marred my body would lower me on the chain of command. I could be thrown away any time if they saw that I was no longer desirable. 
 
 As my inspection and processing was finished, I was thrown into the pen with all of my other fellow slaves. They too wore the thin surgical gowns, we were never allowed to be clothed fully. It wasn ’ t a child bearer ’ s place to have clothes. We were merely there for the usage of those in charge. Around me were almost twenty other women, all having gone through the same life that I had. They all had empty sunken in eyes. Their smiles never fully reached their cheeks, and they merely existed. There was only one who I shared any sort of hope with. 
 
 “ Talia? ” a woman asked me, and I allowed small smile to creep across my face. The woman ’ s name was Velda, she was my only friend in the facility, and she like me, had scars. The only difference was that she had scars that weren ’ t surgical. Instead they were rough and crooked, like crisscrossing train tracks over her wrists, her shoulders, and her thighs. See unlike us, she wasn ’ t born into the facility – she was transferred when her husband found that she was with a child. 
 
 “ You got selected too? It hasn ’ t been the three months of recovery yet though! ” I told her, worried. 
 
 “ I think they need more children Talia. I mean look at you. You ’ ve barely healed since the last child. You should be on break, ” she told me. I hear the fear in her voice, and we both were wondering the same thing. The overseers only allowed us to break the three month recovery period when they thought that we were coming close to the end of our usefulness. When that happened, we were brought to households to be household slaves – or in special cases, we were terminated. 
 
 At the end of socialization time, I waved goodbye to Velda and walked to my guardians. They were carrying their usual batons, wearing sterile white uniforms. They guided me down the hallway, but rather than turning toward my usual room, they continued past. I felt the pit in my stomach drop – I didn ’ t think they would be doing this so soon, it had only been hours since the man had chosen me to bear his child. 
 
 “ Please? ” I asked timidly, frightened. This process had always frightened me – and it had happened so many times. 
 
 I laid back, struggling to maintain the mask of calmness. My limbs were placed into metal restraints, hands above my head, and legs spread wide. My gown was left open, and had I been a normal girl I would have felt so exposed. Yet this was no new process to me, and I closed my eyes giving into my fate. I struggled to hold back my tears, pressing my eyelids together and taking rapid small breaths. I couldn ’ t help but to whimper as I felt the cold hard metal press against my stomach. I clenched a little bit until I felt the sharp prick of the needle into my side, disabling me from the hips down. And then the pain, I nearly cried out in agony as the machine retrieved an egg from my ovary, placed it in my uterus, and then covered it in fertilization material supplied by the man from before. 
 
 Then it was over, and feeling returned. The restraints were removed, and I felt a tear roll down my eye. I was grabbed by my arm, and placed onto a gurney, and then rolled to my room. All I could feel was a sharp pain in my abdomen from the earlier invasion. I curled up into a ball, crying silently. 
 
 A whisper echoed into my room hours later, and a pair of warm arms embraced me. I laid my head back, seeking comfort in Velda ’ s arms. She held me as I sobbed, and we lay together clenched over in pain. It was a ritual that we had repeated once a year – every time we gone through the procedure. She comforted me, and I comforted her. 
 
 “ I don ’ t want to do this anymore, ” I whispered to her, my voice breaking. I took a deep breath, trying to maintain control of myself, “ They are going to kill us soon, I just know it. I don ’ t want to die to them. ” 
 
 She nuzzled me and hugged me tighter. I felt her lips get close to my ear, and barely, she breathed, “ We don ’ t have to, you know. ” 
 
 “ How? How do we change this? ” I asked slowly. 
 
 “ I hid something a long time ago – when I first arrived at the facility, I ’ ve just never had the courage to use it. ” 
 
 “ Show me? ” 
 
 We stood slowly – although we were able to roam most of the building in our free time, many of the girls chose to stay near and around their rooms. Velda and silently crept out of our room. During the night, generally our guardians would leave us alone. It wasn ’ t uncommon for our pregnancies to cause odd cravings of food late at night, and the kitchen staff were always awake to help us find what we craved. We walked, deeper and deeper into the facility, until we came to the rarely used courtyard. 
 
 “ I found this when I first came here, and until I met you, it was the only thing that kept me sane, ” Velda stated, sighing slightly. She walked towards the small patch of trees, leaning down and pulling something out of the base of one of them, “ And I found this right afterwards. ” 
 
 She held up a razor blade. It was slightly rusted, but shined in the moonlight that lit the courtyard. I held my breath, gasping when she asked for my wrist. She ran the sharp edge lightly against my skin, and I could see a small driblet of blood appear from a scratch she made. 
 
 “ Velda, do you really think it will work? ” I looked to her. 
 
 “ It will free us from this place… I just don ’ t have the courage to do it myself. ” 
 
 “ H… How do we do it then? ” I wondered. 
 
 “ Just go up the river, don ’ t go across. ” She replied, demonstrating on her own wrist. 
 
 “ We will go together right? I ’ ll do you and you do me? ” I asked slightly excited at the prospect that we would finally be able to escape. 
 
 She nodded, kissed me on the cheek, and held out her wrist for me. I took a deep breath, and plunged it into her arm and my arm with the same motion. We grasped hands, looking into each other ’ s eyes. We had been friends since the beginning, and it was time for us to rebel, to escape. I collapsed and my vision started to fade – but I was smiling. I was free. 
 
 
 **** MY NOTE - I'm sorry this is really depressing but like idk. I did n't want it to get too long so it kinda rushes the end**** good prompt though
