[ WP ] Why ... Why choose me ?


 I stand in line with a dozen other kids. We have the same haircut, the same clothes the same face, the same look of fear printed in our eyes, the same cold sweat running down our spines. 
 
 
 The pretty woman with the red lips walks back and forth in front of us, studying each one, like she could find a difference. `` Well,'' she smirks. `` You all know how this goes, but I'll be nice and ask the question that no one answer, any volunteers?'' her question was answered by silence and looks of terror. 
 
 
 I look at the rusty door in front of me, the door from which none of my brothers came back. Beyond the door, there is only blinding blue light, and the sound of heavy machinery mixed with my former brothers' screams of agony. It has been a hundred weeks since we found ourselves here, and we've lost a hundred brothers. 
 
 
 I look from the rusty door back to the pretty woman again, the smirk has n't faded away from her face. That when I realised it; I hate this place, I hate feeling this way every week, I hate not knowing and I hate the pretty woman, I hate her even more than I hate the rusty door. 
 
 
 `` No volunteers for the hundredth week in a row?'' the pretty woman raised a brow. `` In that case I'll just-'' the pretty woman stops, now, both of her eyebrows are raised and there's no trace of smirking on her pretty red lips, only shock as she looks at my raised hand. `` You...... volunteer?'' 
 
 
 I nod and look at my brothers, they look confused, they think that I'm doing this for them, or that I know more than they do. The truth is, I am probably more confused than them. `` In that case,'' the pretty woman says.'' Number 8, step forward.'' 
 
 
 My eyes widen with surprise. I look at the pretty woman and find her expression calm, like she did n't do what she just did. I turn my head to my right, tears were filling his eyes, he was shaking all over and his black jumpsuit read `` Number Eight''. 
 
 
 `` why... why choose me?'' his voice shook as much as his body. `` He....'' Eight points at me. Nine... He volunteered'' 
 
 
 `` Did you just,'' the pretty woman says with a scary face. `` Defy me?'' 
 
 
 Eight turns pale, somehow, he doesnt look like the rest of us anymore. He glances at me, his eyes say `` This is your fault.'' He steps forward and the pretty woman opens the door. The blue light forces us all to look away. For a moment, everything was quite. Not before long, it started, the creaking of metal, the bangs and booms and the voice of Eight. 
 
 
 The rusty door closes, and I open my eyes. The pretty woman locks her eyes to mine, and she smirks again, and I wonder when will I get to have the sweet relief of that rusty door. 
 
 
 I'll be seeing the pretty woman next week. 
 
 
 
 Sorry if this sucked or is poorly written, I'm kinda new at this.
