Sixty Seconds [OPEN BLITZ]

"Get back here!" The girl grabs my hair, and I have to keep myself from shouting or screaming or particularly anything that could wake my parents a few houses down. All I can hope is that this girl will let me go, that she won't turn me in to my parents. Oh please. Oh please, no. My parents have never caught me searching for information about my real family, and if they did, what would they do? Would they do everything in their power to get me to believe that I'm not a stolen child? But they know it. They know they're bad people. Aylin knows that she's actually a Goravich, and Logan knows something about his real family too. So why not me?

I stop struggling with the girl and stand still, waiting for what she has to say. "I'm sorry, miss, I was just uh, reading the paper. I'll do whatever you'd like, just don't tell my parents! Please, miss, please." The desperation in my voice is so unnatural. Taking someone's newspaper is barely a crime.

"No," I say. I don't speak anymore about that. She wouldn't understand. I've never seen a newspaper on my doorstep. My parents have tried to brainwash me into thinking every piece of the news is just part of an even bigger lie. Aylin caused me to think differently. The only reason we don't have a paper at our doorstep every morning is because our parents don't want us to go looking for answers; heck, they don't want us to live. And, out of all the houses in District Three, you chose mine?" "Yes," I say. "I haven't taken yours before..."

Figuring the best idea would be to avoid the subject of the newspaper, I try to find a way to distract the girl. The last thing I need are people knowing my "family" situation, questioning why I steal newspapers. Worry brings an empty feeling to my stomach. "What's your name, miss? I'm...I'm Elodie. Elodie Lee-Andrews." Fake words. I don't really know how to use them; the only people I ever talk to are Logan and Aylin. But maybe fake words work.