My ‘roommate’ looks around my age, with blonde hair and dark brown eyes.

“I’m Freya”, she says to me once the guards lock her in. She sits beside me on the concrete floor.

“I’m Julliette”.

“Why did they put you in here?” Freya asks.

I reply, “Punched a boy for forcing himself on a girl”.

Freya whistles, “You sure gave our government a treat!”

“I kicked a boy in his groin when he tried to kiss me”, she says. “No wonder they put us together”.

“I think my cell was the last—“. She interrupts me by saying, “We are all girls here who tried to defend their decency, I’m sure none of us are extraordinary”. She conveys the last part of her sentence with a skepticism that makes me wonder if she truly believes we are ordinary.

 After seven minutes of silence, Freya speaks, “Have you ever thought about escaping?”

 “Yes. It is not possible”.

“Why?”

“Because we are captives on the fortieth floor of the town’s most secured prison. The guards change their positions within one minute and—“ I pause, as one of the guards' focus shifts to our cell.

Freya nods but gives me a sly smile, “How fast can you run?” When I give her a confused look, she places her hand on the wall behind her and—it passes through it!

“Why did they even lock you if you can escape without batting an eyelash?” I ask in amazement.

She shrugs before asking, “When is the next change?”

“In thirty seconds”.

“We escape in thirty seconds”, she smiles.

I shake my head, “I can’t”.

“Why?” Freya sounds as if she thinks I’m insane.

“Because”, twenty seconds. “You’ll die if I touch you”.  Seeing her confused expression, I blurt, “I didn’t punch the boy. I killed him when I tried prying him off that girl”.

Freya shakes her head, “You won’t kill me, Julliette”.

“I will”.

Three.

“You won’t”, She argues.

Two.

“There’s no time”, she says, taking my hand.

One.

She pulls me through the cell bars as the old sentries disappear. I laugh in surprise, “You are unharmed!”

“You’re crazy to think that you can kill someone with your touch”, Freya says as we sprint down the stairs, dissolving in the thick walls when we sense someone coming toward us.

“She’s not”, a voice says, as someone pulls us through the wall we disappeared into.

We both turn around to find a boy our age, looking at us as if we are the most interesting things he has laid his eyes on.

“I’m the commanding officer of this sector. You can call me Warner", he says, adjusting his gloves.

"You’d be pleased to know, Freya, that you would’ve died from dear Julliette’s touch if we hadn’t fed you the red pill before we brought you here”, he says.

“And I’m happy to see that you two work so well together because you just became our most prized asset”, his smile sends a shiver down my spine.