The alarm blares wildly, red light flashing from above. Twenty six girl sit up in their beds. The girls on the top bunks, including me, crawl down the ladders and wait with the bottom bunk girls. One male cop with a baton, and gun at his hip walks through the rows patting down girl, before dismissing them to the bathrooms. His stiff hands rub down my legs, chest, arms and back. Every nook and cranny no longer mine.
    "Dismissed number 1045." I shuffle along into the line of girls, back straight shoulders open. He moves through the line. Number 1035 joins the line behind me. I notice she puts the lightest bit to much wait on the tips of her toes. That's her way of saying 'Good Morning' to me. I blink, telling her an equally 'good morning' to her. The lights turn blue. And the girls and I begin to march to the showers. The water faucets begin pumping water as we stand under the freezing spray. Hurriedly numbers 1029 through 1055 strip their corse clothes from their bodies praying they don't get too wet. Tiny, dull soap bar wait for us to scrub wildly until they foam but we don't have that kind of that time. The showers turn off before I have a chance to really get the dirt engrained in my skin out. We each squeeze our white nightgowns free of the water before folding them and exiting the room in order.
    Male officers hand us white stained pants and shirts with our number embroidered on the inside. We robotically put them on. No one off a single beat. No one smiles. No one frowns. And then we are moving again. We scan our barcodes, that were tattooed on our right wrist, under a machine and wait for it to turn green before the door opens and we march our way to our stations. I scan mine and walk through. My wet body feels naked until 1035 joins behind me. She does. 1035 and I walk over to 1044 and 1034 and begin pulling carrots out of the dry crumbling soil. 1044 jerks her carrot a little too hard and an officer whacks her over the head with his baton. She opens her palm and he slices a line down the middle. Blood pools and the officer screams at her for bleeding. Smacking her with the baton again. I want to clench my teeth, to weld them together or to slice the officers hand open and scream at him for bleeding. But the slightest off beat and he'll shoot me. We no longer have 1046 because she breathed wrong. 1044 starts to whimper and shake uncontrollably before the officer puts a gun to her temple and shoots. She falls limp.
I pull another carrot. And another carrot. And another. I pull carrots until the sky is streaked with purple and the dinner bell has rung. Then numbers 1029 through 1055 stand up and we march to the dinner hall. We sit in order, and food is placed in front of us. When I first came here the officers told us that we were allowed to talk only during the dinner hall. 1022 spoke first and got shot in the face. They had said they made a mistake, they forgot to tell us they who ever spoke first would be shot. But they said we were still allowed to talk.
Tonight for dinner we had murky water. It was brown and sluggish. We choked it down together. And then in a matter of two minutes we all rose and marched out of the dinning hall and back into the bunks. In sync we took our day clothes we off and our nightgowns were on. Top bunk girls climb up to bed while bottom bunk girls waited. Together we all slept like robot out night clothes still damp from the morning shower. The lights turn off and so do the cameras.
That's when we start. I flip over the bunks railing and curl up next to 1035.
"I miss 1044," my statement send the girls into frenzy.
"What happened to her?" As if she didn't know the only to options of where she'd gone.
"Shot." The girls nod their heads. And then the song begin.
"We will rise, we will rise. Together, forever. We will rise. One escaping after another. Rabbits in the forests, foxes drowned." Over and over the girl sing the harmonies, melodies and beat box the tempo. And then 1037 brings out her pillowcase rolled into a ball.
"Who wants to play catch?" She asks and the young girls giggle balling their pillow cases into balls and tossing them in the dark. "1045 will you check to make sure the coast is clear?" I nod curtly. As the oldest it is my job to check and look out for the other girls. I tiptoe across the room, and peel open the air vent using the black pen that we hide in there to fix my barcode to match one of the officer's. I say a silent prayer that this works and slide my wrist quickly under the scanner. It flashes green. The girls quietly step outside into the grassy fields, holding their pillow cases. Once we are outside they know to stay quiet, since the camera's can hear them but not see them. They throw the balled up pillow case back and forth while some just lay and stare at the sky others jog along the fence and two girls race each other back and forth while being perfectly quiet.
    And that's how I hear it. One girl stomps on the ground just loud engough for everyone to stop but not loud enough for the camera to hear. We all sprint through the grass over to her, the night breeze chilling us because of our damp clothing. The girl 1049 points to the the words inscribed on the ground.

1044 is alive.

We all look at 1049 blankly as she grins. 1049 beckons us forward with the slight twitch of her fingers. We follow. Behind the gate 1044 beams at us. 1044 signals for us to back up. 1044 is five, she told me that once. She closes her eyes and holds out her palm. The lock on the gate rattles quietly. Slowly 1044 mimes opening the lock with her finger and the gate swings open. The twenty five of us stare at her and the passage way out. Their eyes all fall on me. The corners of my mouth turn up and my feet feel freedom for the first time in five years. I hear and feel the pounding and rumbling of the girl running after me. I scoop up 1044 in my arms kissing the dent of her head where the bullet should have gone in but didn't. I snap my fingers and the older girls take the youngest in their arms and run into the forest surrounding the prison. We are free.