This is very rough and I'd appreciate critiques. I'm not at all satisfied. Be harsh as necessary--I can take it! Call it horrible if that's what it takes to get your point across. 
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“Next!” The line moved. Tina moved.
One inch closer—to what? To having the cold metal band wrapped around your waist, the feel of a finger with water running in a circle on skin. The tick marks on the band, each one meaning something that could decide fate. One mark too many and...
Tina shuddered and put a hand to her shirt. Could she feel the outline of each rib? Yes, maybe if she just sucked in a little more—oh, why had she eaten two meals?
“Next!” She moved again and stepped on the shoe of the girl in front of her.
The girl turned. Her eyes looked like chipped glass, so without life that looking through them would be distortion. The black pupils flickered at Tina and shifted forward. Her legs trembled, she was so skinny.
Yet she was known as the prettiest girl in the school.
“Next!”
The girl ahead of Tina was at inspection now. Tina turned. She was the last in line.
Tina sometimes felt that the world was all wrong. Sometimes would take out her hidden stash of history books and run her bony fingers along the edges of the white faces of important figures from the past, her mouth slightly open and her breath covering the pages with longing and dust.
And sometimes she was like the rest of society, sitting in her bed on cold winter nights blasting UV rays from a handheld device onto her already-browned skin. After all, the tanner the better.
She couldn’t believe that there had been a time when brown-skinned people were killed for being...well, beautiful. Dark. Beautiful. Skinny. Perfect. Skinnier. Perfecter.
“Next!” Tina was up.
“Name?” the man asked. He had muscles trimmed and polished by the work of muscle enhancers.
“Tina Draper.”
“Uh—how is that spelled?”
Tina blinked.
“I said—how is that spelled?”
“T-i-n-a...”
“Go slower.” The man’s eyebrows collided in concentration.
“T...i...n...a...” She spelled out her last name.
“Alright. Step in the box.”
Tina took a step.
The jungle made itself known. The orange light of the laser beam sun ran races across Tina’s almost completely exposed body.
Beep, beep.
She was tan enough.
Three metal tiger-claws reached down and danced across her hair, snapping hungrily at ends. Twirl, spin, scan, discover...
Beep, beep.
She had the right hairstyle.
A tall blade of grass made of silicon trailed along Tina’s cheek and eyelashes.
Beep, beep.
Make-up. Good.
Tina knew what was coming next. She shut her eyes and listened to the hiss as a metal snake shot from the jungle depths and wound around her stomach. Tina could almost feel the seconds falling from the sky in a torrent upon her shoulders. One, two, three, four...
It wound tighter.
Five, six, seven, eight.
There was a hum; Tina sucked in.
Nine, ten, elev—
Beep.
A single beep. That was all. No more, no less. Tina’s eyelids flew open, her hands groping wildly for the measuring band. She pulled it off, pull, pull, snap! A burst of sparks! Tina stumbled to the side of the box and ran her fingers along the walls, searching. Bang! Bang! She pounded, screamed.
A red light flashed. The door opened.
“Stay there.” The man grabbed her arms so she couldn’t flail. A siren called, a lone wolf howling into the darkness. Tina was shoved in the back of a car. Immediately, a voice sounded.
“You, Tina Draper, are one eighth of an inch too...fat.”
“No, I-“
“You do not have the right to interrupt, nor the right to remain in this world. As a society, as one connected, beautiful people, we recognize physical beauty as a thing of importance—“
“It’s not though!” Tina shouted.
“How dare you say that. You are fat, Tina Draper, fat! You do not belong. Have you eaten more than you were supposed to to fit in with everyone else?”
“I-“
“Answer the question,” the voice said.
“Yes! I was hungry!”
“Do not use that word.”
“Hungry, hunger, food, food, fat, starve, famine,” Tina spat.
“You know large words. How?”
“I read.”
“Does your family know?”
“No.”
“Do they eat a lot? Do they tan? Are their teeth straight? Do they use enhancers?”
“They’re normal!”
“They will be killed anyway.”
“No! Will you just listen? Did you know that at one time people were valued for what they did? Not for how tan, how skinny, how large their breasts were. Not for how white their teeth were. They did things. They made a difference. Ever heard of William Shakespeare? Jackie Robinson? Neil Armstrong? How about Queen Elizabeth, Jesus Christ, Martin Luther King? And then look at the girl in front of me. Shaking legs because she doesn’t eat. How about that man? Unhuman muscles just to get ‘oohs’ and ‘aahs’.”
“You talk too quickly. I don’t understand.”
Tina felt a tear fall of the precipice of her cheekbone. All she really needed was a bite to eat.
