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324 reached their breaking point. The tears never stopped. The shame never ended. Every lash of the whip, every strike of the belt, every knife in the ribs—

No. More.

They waited in their bunk for the next rotation. Rocking. Crying. Repeatedly weighing the desperate choice. Endure? Or end?

Clean. Never dirty. Fed. Never starved. Healed. Never scarred. In perfect health. But day after day, night after night, they suffered.

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No one would find them here. No one would save them. This concluded their story.

No. More.

324 secured their sheets to the bunk and fashioned it around their neck. Their breath shook. Their hands trembled. It was time to take control of their story, if only for the end.

A light burst forth, bright and unyielding. It illuminated the bunk and the lost soul within. Pitched in perpetual darkness, 324’s eyes found it hard to adjust. Blurry, a face came into their vision.

No. This person left them the most conflicted out of all the handlers.

“Let’s take a break.”

A break. Yes. Please. A break.