tarrant locke {eight} fin

I'm not really supposed to be out here, Mum doesn't like it much when I go near the fence. She says it's dangerous. But I mean, the worst I've gotten is a scraped up knee, so how bad can it be, really? I know there's bears and foxes and things on the other side, but I don't go there. I just like to come here and look.

Mum started working again a couple years back, and I get home from school before she does, so I like to sneak out for a bit and just sit here. It's nice, you know? Quiet. Different from all the factories and smoke and people. I never liked Eight that much. Or at least, I can't remember a time that I did like it. It's just too busy, too loud, too crowded. I've always liked silence better. And here, on the edge of town, I can almost see what it might be like to live on the other side. With the trees and the rabbits and the sunshine. I can't imagine anything bad happens over there. It just seems so...oh, what's the word...right, peaceful. I think it's the total opposite of what's over here on this side.

It's just been me and my Mum for as long as I can remember. She says I had a Dad once, but she doesn't like to talk about him, and I don't remember anything about him. Sometimes I think she didn't like him that much. It's weird, because I'm pretty sure Mums and Dads are supposed to love each other, but I don't think they did. Mum tried explaining it to me once or twice. I didn't get it, so we moved on and finished our jigsaw puzzle or apple pie batter.

The other kids in school tell me I'm lucky. I didn't know what that meant at first, or why they said it, but now I think I'm starting to understand. I know Dad never liked us that much, but I know he had a lot of money, and he left us with a pretty nice house. I've got a room all to myself (but I like to sleep in Mum's bed), we have a backyard, a swing on the front porch, and little pink flowers in the front windows. The backyard isn't very big, but I guess it's something. I know the other kids don't have backyards, because when they come over, they can't get enough of it. I guess backyards aren't very normal here. Most of the space is taken up with roads and shops and factories and things I don't like. I asked Mum once why we couldn't move to another District. She said it wasn't allowed, and when I kept asking why, she wouldn't tell me. She likes talking about rules, she just doesn't like talking about why we have them. That's alright I guess.

I think I made my first friend when I was four. Her name is Izzie, and she lives down the street and around the corner from our house. Last year Mum started letting me walk there all by myself. She's a year younger than me, we celebrated her Seventh-and-a-Half Birthday a week ago with oranges and muffins and a toy doll I made for her with sticks and leaves. She liked it, I think.

We've been mistaken for siblings before, Izzie and me. I guess we kind of look the same. My hair is shorter and curlier than her's, but they're both a really dark brown and pretty thick. We've both got big eyes, but her's are blue and mine are brown. Small noses, little teeth, big ears. She's younger than me but she's always been taller. Mum says I'll pass her once I hit my 'growth spurt'. Whatever that is. I don't mind being short, I guess, aren't all little kids supposed to be like that? It would be weird if we were all as tall as the adults.

I've never been very good at school. Mum tried helping me out a while ago, but she's too busy now with work, and I think she's kinda given up. I just have a hard time remembering things, and I'm not very good at reading. The letters get all jumbled and I mess up what I'm supposed to say when I talk. My teachers used to get annoyed, but I think they've given up too. Izzie started helping me with my homework a few months ago. That's made things a little easier.

I don't like taking her to the fence with me. I did once, but then she wouldn't stop talking, and she scared off a little rabbit that came up to us on the other side. I mean, I like Izzie, she's great, but she's just so chatty. It's nice at times, especially since I don't have a whole lot to say. But I come here because it's quiet and because I get a break from the noise in our District. She kind of spoils that when she comes.

I've never actually crossed the fence. Not really because Mum tells me not to, but mostly because I'm scared I won't be able to get back over. Maybe that wouldn't be so bad. Maybe it's nicer over there. But I've heard too many stories of monsters and things on the other side to believe that I'd be happy forever. And besides, I think I'd miss my Mum, and Izzie. I know I wouldn't miss the noise. Sometimes, on my really bad days, I've wanted to cross over, but I've always decided not to. Instead I'll sit down and play with the grass at my feet and stare through the wires until the sun starts to drop below the treeline. That's when Mum gets home, so I always have to leave before she finds out where I've been. Sometimes I'm late, and I tell her I've been at Izzie's. She's always been good at knowing when I'm lying, but I think for some reason she lets that one slip. Maybe she doesn't mind me going out there so much, so long as we don't talk about it. I'm alright with that. I'm good at keeping secrets.