Bring it Home to Me //Ella&26
Nov 22, 2013 7:14:41 GMT -5
Post by gamemaker kelsier on Nov 22, 2013 7:14:41 GMT -5
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[atrb=style, word-spacing: 1px; text-align: justify; opacity: 0.6; padding: 35px 10px 5px 10px; border-radius: 5px;] 26. The sun reminds me of butter. That's the only thing I can equate it to. It's like when you have toast in the morning, and it comes out with a clanking sound. It isn't a popping sound, no matter what the Sunday comics say. When you get butter and it's all cold, unfeeling. That's what the sun is like, until you put it on the toasted bread and it melts, down into the very bones of it, hot to the touch. I can feel it now, seeping into my bones too. I sit on the roof of the barracks, face turned towards the sun that's rising, trying to suck in the rays. I've been warned against this, being out in the sun too much. Apparently my skin won't be able to take it because I've been living underground, but I've put on that goopy white stuff that apparently screens you from the sun and I'm wearing a big floppy hat. I don't think there's much fear of skin cancer. I'm pretty sure they found a cure for that ages back anyway. I shut my eyes tight and scrunch my nose up. The roof is already beginning to warm up underneath my bare feet. There are no clouds in the sky, so far I haven't seen anything but sun since I've been up above the ground. Apparently though, that's due for a change. It's supposed to be stormy this afternoon, whatever storm is. I mean, I know it's got something to do with weather, but since weather has never applied to me, I never bothered to learn about it. I've read about storms, but it all it ever described was wet and wind. I guess you sort of have to be there. It's my third day above, and so far I haven't found out anything. they keep me training pretty hard still, although the things they're getting me to do are sort of really easy. It's boring really. I hate being bored, especially since it's so exciting up here. I'm already on the roof of the barracks so it'd be o big deal just to jump down to the other side of the fence that marks this area as Peacekeeper land. They're only keeping me in the barracks until they locate my grandparents anyway. Apparently they have to do a DNA check on everyone in District One. I'm not all that important, so it's not like they're racing to figure it out. I figure I'll be able to figure out who my grandparents are with one look because we're technically family. I'm a it scared though, because in books grandparents are always lovely, old people. I'm worried that they might not be. I drum my fingers against the roof and then make a decision. In half an hour, the other trainees will be waking up and having breakfast. After that, it's on to morning drills with running, hand to hand combat, and weapons. It's all basic stuff that I learned years ago. I don't know if I can bare another moment of it. I quickly scuttle forward to the roof's edge. It overhangs the wall, the street is right there. I let myself slip forward, and fall into a roll to get off it. It only occurs to me afterwards that I definitely left my shoes up there. I stare for a moment considering the shoes. They're alright, just jogging runners, nothing special. My combat boots are still inside, safely tucked away. With a smile, I turn on my heel and head off down the street. I don't know this place, I've only gone from train, to car, to barracks. It's all new. In moments I have my nose pressed against the glass of what I think is a shop. Inside the still locked doors, there are tiny little mammals all sleeping in a big pile. I want one I think. Something aches in me. I think it might be because I find them really cute. I stand watching for a while, jumping backwards when one moves. It yawns, tiny maw opening up to reveal a row of sharp teeth. I do not know if these mammals are the things they call mutts. I have seen mutts before, and these don't look the same but father with the weird mustache says that there are many kinds of mutts. Still the thing behind the glass looks near harmless. It's staring at me now, and I stare back. It is a contest. Neither of us break our stare as the street begins to fill with morning rabble. Finally it glances down to lick it's paw. I have triumphed. A small smile steals across my face, and I press one hand against the glass. "I will come back for you, tiny mammal," I whisper. Jumping up again, I turn away. I keep heading down the street, down, down, down. It's a long street. My bare feet meet many textures, and they might have gone bloody if it weren't for the fact that I was raised in bare feet. My soles are as hard as the pancakes one of my Mothers likes to attempt to make. Still, soon I come across a building, bugger than most of the others I've seen, with far more of a business to it. Young people go in and out. I can't help staring, I've never seen so many people. They're all shaped differently too, tall and short, slim and huge with muscles. I start to feel curious about all the activity. I wonder what's in there, that makes it such a hive. Cocking my head to the side, I tug a bit on the old sweater I'm wearing. Clenching my hands into fists, I run forward uncertainly, holding my hands out to push open the glass double doors. I burst into a large entrance atrium. It smells of chlorine and polish. Carefully, I tuck my hands into the pockets of my sweater, making them disappear, and walk towards sounds of noise. I poke my head in a door and see a girl inside. My mouth widens, hangs open as I take in the size of the room and all the cool things inside. Weapons line the walls, and there are mats to wrestle on. There are dummies stacked in a corner, and even a real live herb garden for those who know their poisons. Surprisingly, this room is empty but for one, lone figure. I girl with long dark hair seems to be taking her rage out on a dummy with various items. Transfixed, I stand in the doorway and stare. She is incredible. No matter where I sleep, Y o u a r e h a u n t i n g m e , But I'm already there, I ' m a l r e a d y t h e r e . |