magdelina
He was a savage. There was no other word for it. I shoved him away from me. Well, that's what my brain was saying. My body, however, from frozen, and I found myself unable to carry out the simplest of actions. Mind racing, limbs locked, I could not even scream as I knew I should.
The Silo. Right on the border of US and Canada. As a kid it was always hilarious to sit there, eating ice cream, and gesture casually across the river. "Hey, there's Canada!" we'd always say, as if we had just noticed it but it was no big deal. But as kids, foreign countries, even Canada, were always interesting.
"That is so distressing," she said, averting her eyes form the scene. Her companion, however, could not take his eyes away. They would not budge. It is interesting that two people could have such opposite reactions to the same scene.
It was all worthwhile in the end. Right? Because it had to be. There was no other option. Each step I took, each thought I though, each moment I continued breathing, it was all worth it. Because now I'm here, and I'm still breathing, after all this time. Even if I'm the only one. I'm still here.
All of this amounts to -- what? A lot of wishes and desires and goals but nothing tangible, nothing I could count. I didn't know how much I had. I didn't know how much I could lose. But I wanted more.
The Hunger Games.
Games aren't always fun. Like in gym class when you play a game but gym class sucks.
Or, you know what? Like in math class when you play a game but math class sucks and the suckiness of math class doesn't override the "fun" of the game.
I like board games. My brother doesn't. That's annoying.
The rent was due tomorrow. Shit. I had completely forgotten in the midst of everything that was going on. My mind raced through my options. I could ask the landlord for an extension, but I didn't particularly want to deal with his anger right now. I could ask my parents for money, but I always hated borrowing from them. It felt like they were blackmailing me for some reason. Shit. This sucked.
I got detention when I was in fourth grade relatively frequently. That might be a surprise, since I was an A student throughout high school who was never in trouble with the authorities. But in fourth grade, I forgot to do my homework a lot. I didn't avoid homework. I just forgot. I was a bit of a Neville Longbottom, you might say. I needed a remembrall.
A modem is a computer thingy, right? Oh gosh, I hardly know. I'm not very good at computer things. Internet things I'm decent at, and I have technological common sense that the older generation seems to lack, but I'm not very good at these sorts of things still. Oh gosh. This word, I hav very little to say about it. I thought it was the word "modern" at first, which I would have preferred greatly.
The test administrator distributed the test packets row by row in silence. The students could hear the crinkling of the paper as she handed a packet of four or five to the first student in each row. Besides that, the only noise was the nervous tapping of number 2 pencils on desks and breathing.
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