My preference, it seems, doesn't really matter.
"Are you fucking kidding me? Hey! Hey! What snow?" I kept shouting after the retreating guard, but I knew it wasn't in his contract to answer me, and so he wouldn't. Fucking Monitors. What did they know, anyways? He must be out of his mind if he thinks that I'm going to start training, in my cell, of my own accord, to save a society of people who don't want the likes of me to be part of their system.
I sprawled out in the middle of room again. Why doesn't this room have a corner? Just a bloody corner. You take one bag of rice, and the Monitors toss you in a room with no corners, with no sentence, with no clarity on what the hell you have to do to get out here.
Thinking over the conversation with the Monitor again, my stomach grumbled. If I agreed to train, they'd have to feed me more than a nutrient pill, right? It's not like their offer could be refused.
The Monitor's words pop in my head again: "We will be stopping the snow. You will help. Begin your training now; you will need more strength. We will give you a stronger pill, with more protein, to assist you. That is all."
Stop the snow? What is more muscle going to do to the stop the snow? And what snow is talking about anyways? I remain on the floor, imagining snowflakes from a time I can barely remember, before the crash. Before long, the door clinks as it opens again, revealing four Monitors, ready to escort me out of the room.
And as we move down the hall, heading to an unnamed location, I can finally see the outdoors: swirling masses of snow make it impossible to see the next set of windows, let alone the city beyond. Why is it snowing? And as I try to remember the last time I saw fresh, white powder, a twinge in my neck lets me know that I'll be taking a bit of a nap....
This is the combination of a response to two different prompts. One about snow from @greggr, and another about a delinquent teen in a dystopian future from @chiaroscuro. Hope you enjoyed! I was kind of stuck with this one, and felt it was very cliche, but I wanted to keep writing anyways so, just go with it?
This is one of those "I really don't love what I wrote but I'm posting it anyways" moments, ha!