Playing Hooky - Open
Mar 24, 2012 19:43:26 GMT -5
Post by Yetinsane on Mar 24, 2012 19:43:26 GMT -5
The sound of a door opening and closing, that was the first thing that Zee Umbre registered as he was pulled from his silent dreams. He lifted his left hand and rubbed the sleep from his eyes then rolled over in his bed, pulling his covers over his head. It was early in the morning and the sun was just starting to rise over the towering factories outside Zee's bedroom window (of which the blinds were pulled upward, letting soft rays of pale light descend all the way to the floor). "Zee, wake up." A feminine vioce called and, after a pause, he heard his bedroom door close again. Zee shifted in his bed, pulled the covers down so that they now no longer hid his face.
His room was the same as he had left it the night before. The bookcase and wardrobe against the wall to his right, a curtained window to his left, his work desk was farthest from him, touching the center wall. Sharpened pencils and blank papers lay untouched on the desk (he had recently started drawing and his first attempts, he must admit, had turned out less than satisfactory and since then, he could not find anything to give him any inspiration); other objects were strewn across his floor in a messy heap. He didn't mind the disorder, in fact, he liked his room in some sort of a mess. Every time he set up his room in a orderly fashion, he would always forget where he put his belongings, but this way, he could always find what he needed quickly enough.
The day was Tuesday, a working day in District 9, and in a little over a hour's time, everyone would be starting work in the factories. Zee knew that he should be getting ready for the day, he was already behind schedule. He fought back a yawn, he didn't want to go to work today. Zee knew thoughts like these were selfish and that skipping work was highly frowned upon in District 9, but he was troubled and he had no desire to go to work in his factory and do the almost the same thing all day half in, half out of a trance. But nor did he want to be considered a truant. He heard footsteps in the hallway; he had better make up his mind. . . and quickly.
When Zee's mother, Lacole Umbre, entered the room for a second time, Zee was curled up in his bedclothes with one arm hanging limply off the edge of his bed. Stepping around a pile of clothes on the floor, Lacole moved further into the room,"Zee, you must wake or you'll be late for your work. You are already behind time." No reply; Zee hardly stirred and his only form of response was his slow, shallow breathing. His mother walked to the side of the bed and shook the boy in it's shoulder lightly, "Wake up now, Zee," She said in a temperate but urgent tone.
Groaning in complaint the green-eyed boy shifted his position, turning to face his mother more directly, "I don't feel . . . well." His eyes were closed and he inhaled a sharp, slow breath; he needed a believable performance. Yet, Lacole Umbre looked confused. She leaned toward her son; placed a hand upon his forehead. Sulkily, Zee turned away.
Now his mother looked slightly more convinced, Zee usually never played pretend and he had always had seemed eager to quickly start his day and arrive in the factories for work each morning. She hesitated before saying measurably, "You do look a little red, I suppose. Perhaps work today wouldn't be the best idea for you." Perfect. That was exactly what Zee was hoping she'd say, though he was surprised she even had. His mother backed away from the side of his bed and then the bedroom door swung open and Strider came dashing into the room and was by the Zee's bedside in seconds. The small child, who looked much like Zee only without the distinctive green eyes and instead amber ones, gazed at his older brother with intense curiosity and suspicion. "What's wrong with Zee?" He asked simply in a childish voice.
Lacole was at the door,"Zee doesn't feel well so we need to leave him alone so he can have time to get better." Strider leaned closer to Zee, his eyes dark and narrowed, "I think he looks--" Strider turned around quickly, but Lacole had left the room. She could be heard moving around in the kitchen, "Strider, we need to head out to town in a minute, there are some things I need to pick up. Zee, darling, you hear that? We'll be gone only a couple of hours, so try to get some rest." Strider gave a slight shake of his head, "Fine to me. . ." He finished his sentence in a ill-tempered mutter as he looked at his brother again.
Zee groaned inwardly, how obnoxious his brother always was, he ruined everything. Just then, his little brother started to talk again this time rapidly and excited,"Wait, since you won't be at work today, I can finally have someone to play games with and talk to other than Mother. It'll be great, you and me playing all day just like we used to when we were younger. You will play, won't you? It looks like you have nothing better to do than lay in bed all day." Zee gave his younger brother a harsh glare that made the kid step back, eyes slightly widened with shock. "Fine," Strider said as he hoped over to the door,"I'm going with Mother, she said we will be back soon. Bye-bye!" There was the sound of quickened footsteps, then they were gone.
Sitting up and running a hand through his hair, Zee sighed with relief, grateful that they had left. Well, what he had told his mother was only part of a lie. It was true he didn't feel good. He had been troubled by the more recent Games's footage and he felt more occupied lately than in the last few weeks than normal. Though, he wasn't sick, but now wasn't the time to dawdle on these things, he only had a few hours to himself and he thought he'd like to spend them outside in the District. He didn't know what he would go looking for on a day of playing hooky like this one or even what he would find. Trouble, probably. Well, we'll just have to see, he thought to himself, smiling slyly as he stood from his bed.
______________________________________________
A black-haired boy skidded to a halting stop after curving around the side of a shop, placing his back against the wall to rest so he could catch his breath. "That was close," Zee breathed with relief. He had narrowly escaped his mother's childhood friend, Phoebe's wandering gaze as she was walking into the very store he was hiding beside. He hadn't really seen her in forever, but he recognized her quickly enough and knew she was danger; if she'd seen him, his mother would have surely found out.
It had taken him a little over fifteen minutes to get ready. He had rushed through brushing his teeth, washing up, getting dressed, and combing his hair. It had felt like hours and he was in a hurry to get out while his mother and Strider were gone. He was wearing a blue and gray short-sleeved shirt with jeans and a bandanna, worn backwards around his neck, of an almost ugly yellow hue that looked irrelevant to the rest of the outfit. The weather was cool but the sun was shining the partly cloudy sky.
Slipping away from the wall and out onto the path again, Zee began walking forward watching the few passing people with mild interest. He was only half way down the street when he was stopped by three younger boys who he recognized as some of the kids that were too young to work in the factories, but still walked with their older siblings or fathers to work each day. "Hey, don't you work in the factories?" One boy asked. Zee stared down at the younger child, "Yes. . but I'm in sorta of a hurry right now. See you three later!" Zee's last few words must have been hard for the kids to catch, as he was already moving away in a half-run-half-walk. He stopped in front of a random store now that he was deeper into town. For the second time today he had been bothered by someone. He just wanted to be left alone. Couldn't anyone see that?
His room was the same as he had left it the night before. The bookcase and wardrobe against the wall to his right, a curtained window to his left, his work desk was farthest from him, touching the center wall. Sharpened pencils and blank papers lay untouched on the desk (he had recently started drawing and his first attempts, he must admit, had turned out less than satisfactory and since then, he could not find anything to give him any inspiration); other objects were strewn across his floor in a messy heap. He didn't mind the disorder, in fact, he liked his room in some sort of a mess. Every time he set up his room in a orderly fashion, he would always forget where he put his belongings, but this way, he could always find what he needed quickly enough.
The day was Tuesday, a working day in District 9, and in a little over a hour's time, everyone would be starting work in the factories. Zee knew that he should be getting ready for the day, he was already behind schedule. He fought back a yawn, he didn't want to go to work today. Zee knew thoughts like these were selfish and that skipping work was highly frowned upon in District 9, but he was troubled and he had no desire to go to work in his factory and do the almost the same thing all day half in, half out of a trance. But nor did he want to be considered a truant. He heard footsteps in the hallway; he had better make up his mind. . . and quickly.
When Zee's mother, Lacole Umbre, entered the room for a second time, Zee was curled up in his bedclothes with one arm hanging limply off the edge of his bed. Stepping around a pile of clothes on the floor, Lacole moved further into the room,"Zee, you must wake or you'll be late for your work. You are already behind time." No reply; Zee hardly stirred and his only form of response was his slow, shallow breathing. His mother walked to the side of the bed and shook the boy in it's shoulder lightly, "Wake up now, Zee," She said in a temperate but urgent tone.
Groaning in complaint the green-eyed boy shifted his position, turning to face his mother more directly, "I don't feel . . . well." His eyes were closed and he inhaled a sharp, slow breath; he needed a believable performance. Yet, Lacole Umbre looked confused. She leaned toward her son; placed a hand upon his forehead. Sulkily, Zee turned away.
Now his mother looked slightly more convinced, Zee usually never played pretend and he had always had seemed eager to quickly start his day and arrive in the factories for work each morning. She hesitated before saying measurably, "You do look a little red, I suppose. Perhaps work today wouldn't be the best idea for you." Perfect. That was exactly what Zee was hoping she'd say, though he was surprised she even had. His mother backed away from the side of his bed and then the bedroom door swung open and Strider came dashing into the room and was by the Zee's bedside in seconds. The small child, who looked much like Zee only without the distinctive green eyes and instead amber ones, gazed at his older brother with intense curiosity and suspicion. "What's wrong with Zee?" He asked simply in a childish voice.
Lacole was at the door,"Zee doesn't feel well so we need to leave him alone so he can have time to get better." Strider leaned closer to Zee, his eyes dark and narrowed, "I think he looks--" Strider turned around quickly, but Lacole had left the room. She could be heard moving around in the kitchen, "Strider, we need to head out to town in a minute, there are some things I need to pick up. Zee, darling, you hear that? We'll be gone only a couple of hours, so try to get some rest." Strider gave a slight shake of his head, "Fine to me. . ." He finished his sentence in a ill-tempered mutter as he looked at his brother again.
Zee groaned inwardly, how obnoxious his brother always was, he ruined everything. Just then, his little brother started to talk again this time rapidly and excited,"Wait, since you won't be at work today, I can finally have someone to play games with and talk to other than Mother. It'll be great, you and me playing all day just like we used to when we were younger. You will play, won't you? It looks like you have nothing better to do than lay in bed all day." Zee gave his younger brother a harsh glare that made the kid step back, eyes slightly widened with shock. "Fine," Strider said as he hoped over to the door,"I'm going with Mother, she said we will be back soon. Bye-bye!" There was the sound of quickened footsteps, then they were gone.
Sitting up and running a hand through his hair, Zee sighed with relief, grateful that they had left. Well, what he had told his mother was only part of a lie. It was true he didn't feel good. He had been troubled by the more recent Games's footage and he felt more occupied lately than in the last few weeks than normal. Though, he wasn't sick, but now wasn't the time to dawdle on these things, he only had a few hours to himself and he thought he'd like to spend them outside in the District. He didn't know what he would go looking for on a day of playing hooky like this one or even what he would find. Trouble, probably. Well, we'll just have to see, he thought to himself, smiling slyly as he stood from his bed.
______________________________________________
A black-haired boy skidded to a halting stop after curving around the side of a shop, placing his back against the wall to rest so he could catch his breath. "That was close," Zee breathed with relief. He had narrowly escaped his mother's childhood friend, Phoebe's wandering gaze as she was walking into the very store he was hiding beside. He hadn't really seen her in forever, but he recognized her quickly enough and knew she was danger; if she'd seen him, his mother would have surely found out.
It had taken him a little over fifteen minutes to get ready. He had rushed through brushing his teeth, washing up, getting dressed, and combing his hair. It had felt like hours and he was in a hurry to get out while his mother and Strider were gone. He was wearing a blue and gray short-sleeved shirt with jeans and a bandanna, worn backwards around his neck, of an almost ugly yellow hue that looked irrelevant to the rest of the outfit. The weather was cool but the sun was shining the partly cloudy sky.
Slipping away from the wall and out onto the path again, Zee began walking forward watching the few passing people with mild interest. He was only half way down the street when he was stopped by three younger boys who he recognized as some of the kids that were too young to work in the factories, but still walked with their older siblings or fathers to work each day. "Hey, don't you work in the factories?" One boy asked. Zee stared down at the younger child, "Yes. . but I'm in sorta of a hurry right now. See you three later!" Zee's last few words must have been hard for the kids to catch, as he was already moving away in a half-run-half-walk. He stopped in front of a random store now that he was deeper into town. For the second time today he had been bothered by someone. He just wanted to be left alone. Couldn't anyone see that?
