I Just Wanna Run (part 3)

     That night, I attended supper with my family and the six men. I sat beside my sister, Lilly, who sat across from the young man in the red cloak. Now, it hung from his shoulder, and the hood was at the base of his neck. His bangs still hung low, but I could see his eyes this time. They were a light hazel, almost light enough to be gold or yellow. I tried not to stare too long. I knew when I did, because he would always look back at me. Every time, this wry smile would come to his lips. I noticed that he wasn't really a man at all. He couldn't be any older than sixteen or so, which would mean he was a year or two older than myself. He seemed amused that I actually came to supper.
   The next morning, I went to the spot on the wall where I'd stood with him the day before. Not to my surprise, he leaned there, staring out over the hills.
   "I told you it was a nice view," I said.
He looked over at me. "Yes, it is just that."
I walked over and stood beside him, watching the wind move the trees before pointing out to the fields.
   "In the summer," I said, "That's the best place to pick flowers. My mother doesn't like the wild ones, but I do. I like the colors."
He nodded simply. I was slightly disappointed by this. As much as I hated to admit it (good gracious, my sisters were getting to me) but I somewhat enjoyed his company.
   "Do you travel much?" I asked.
He looked at me from behind the hood, hazel eyes questioning. Then he smiled. "A bit, yes."
I nodded. "I thought so."
His eyes remained on me. "Do I strike you as a traveler? I didn't know my manners were that bad."
I laughed curtly. "No, it's nothing to do with your manners. You just seem different from the others in your company. More distant, I suppose, as if you're used to being alone."
He raised an eyebrow. "Well, the others are travelers, just as I am."
    "Hmm," I said teasingly, "Then maybe it is your table manners."
He chuckled at that, then quieted and said, "I suppose you're like that as well. Distant, I mean."
I looked away from him, out over the fields. "Yes. I guess I am, aren't I?"
He glanced at me sincerely. "Four sisters, and yet still you are alone."
I bit my lip. "It's not their fault."
    "Does the fault fall upon someone?"
My thoughts drifted toward my mother.

Unlikely (part 4)

    The stories of how I met Bliss and Ria kinda intertwine. Really, it was an accident. Or coincidence. One of the more loco (and I say that lightly) patients was screaming about wanting a fruit cup or something like that, so Miss Kristen asked me to go to the kitchen and get one. Everything had gone great until I pushed open the door of the kitchen. Suddenly, a hand clamped around my mouth and I was pulled behind one of the counters. I wrestled out of the persons grasp and yelled, "Hey!" 

The girl shushed me harshly and dragged me further from the door. "Let go!" I insisted.

    "Shut up. Just chill out."

For some reason, she reminded me of Amie. She glared at me for a moment before darting around the counter. 

    "Hey!" I followed her and watched as she ran to the fridge and extracted two pudding cups. She then ran past me and out the door. Instead of doing what I was told and bringing Miss Kristen the fruit cup, I followed the girl to one of the rooms like the one I shared with Bren. I peeked in and saw her hand one of the cups to another girl who sat on the end of one of the beds. 

    "You're not supposed to steal," I said bluntly through the open door.

The thief turned and glared at me. "So what? It's not like it's hurting anyone. Besides, Bliss really wanted one."

The girl on the bed, who I assumed was Bliss, peeled the lid from her cup and dipped her spoon in without saying anything to me. 

The other girl kept looking at me. "So why were you in the kitchen, then?" She asked accusingly. 

    I crossed my arms. "Miss Kristen asked me to get someone a fruit cup. I would have done that, if you hadn't gotten in my way."

    "So, what? You gonna tell on me?"

I thought about it for a moment. Honestly, I didn't care what this girl did. But I wasn't going to ignore her, either. There was something about the way she looked at me back behind the counter. 

    "No," I told her. "I'm not going to tell."

I looked at Bliss, then, and noticed that she'd been staring at me with large dark eyes the entire time the other girl and I had been quarreling. 

    "Her name is Ria," Bliss said softly. 

The other girl, Ria, said nothing, only watched me with crossed arms.

    "I'm Dale," I replied. 

Change My Atmosphere (part 2)

    Like I said before, no one really talks to me anymore, not since the disease. So I'm somewhat surprised when I'm actually spoken to.
    Even though it's basically the end of the world, believe it or not, there are still places to eat around here. I wasn't lying when I said people were trying to rebuild. Sure, it's no Olive Garden, but Burger King sure beats eating out of cans. It seems that, before the disease broke out, most of these teens worked in fast food places. I order a burger and a bottle of water and try to find a seat. I brush some dirt off of the table (apparently, they don't care much about cleanliness here) and sit to eat my meal. I'm about to bite into my burger when someone slides onto the bench across from me.
    "Um-" I start, but stop when I notice he's staring at me rather intently.
    "Yes?" I ask.
    "You don't happen to be named Kaitlin, do you?"
I blink at him like "are you kidding me" and slowly nod. He smiles brightly and says, "Kay, right?"
I shrug. "And you are-?"
Then it hits me.
    "Jason Sera? From eighth grade? Wow, that was forever ago, wasn't it."
I just nod and try to start eating when he says, "So, whatcha been up to?"
    "Look," I say, "I'm really just here for a meal, okay?"
He nods. "Okay."
Like most people, I can't eat while people are staring at me. "I spend most of my time here in New York, believe it or not."
    "Really? And here, you were always talking about wanting to get out, see the world."
    "Hm. Yeah, I was, wasn't I."
I don't really want to see a world that has no people in it.
I take a bite out of my burger and Jason speaks again. "Anyway, I've been around. Mostly D.C and stuff like that. The White House is pretty boring, believe it or not."
    "Is it."
    "Yeah."
He keeps talking and this gives me a chance to finish my meal. When I do, I ball up my wrapper and stand. "Well, it was good seeing you again. Bye."
He jumps up after me. "Wait, Kay."
I look back at him. He's frowning now.
    "Is it just you, now?" He asks sincerely.
I shrug. He nods once and says, "Well, if I'm in the area, can I call you?"
What am I supposed to say to that? That I prefer being alone? I think it's better than dealing with an empty world? I surprise myself when I say, "Sure".

Unlikely (part 3)

Next is Amie. Her story is one that I don't really enjoy telling. Apparently, she'd gotten into many fights at her old schools, and actually got kicked out of two of them. She got a little better after being expelled from the last one, but her parents thought she should be sent here. She came two months after I'd gotten here. Basically, this is how it went down:
"Hey, that's my seat."
I looked up at her from the armchair by the window. I tried to play the "ignore" card, but that only earned me a shove on the shoulder.
"I said that's my seat. Get out."
Without looking at her, I said, "Don't play that crap with me. I know you're new here, so I don't see how this seat could possible be reserved for you. And even if it was, I wouldn't care. Now beat it."
I waited a minute and turned to see her still standing there, hands balled into fists resting on hips. Her long blonde hair was pulled into two tight pigtails that rested just above her shoulders. She glared at me with light brown eyes.
"Can I help you?" I asked.
Next thing I saw was her fist flying towards my face. Thankfully, I knew how to dodge, and she got a fistful of cushion. I, on the other hand, was at the other side of the room. She called me something highly inappropriate for a girl her age to say and came at me, swinging punches. I'd taken one to the jaw by the time someone restrained her.
Unfortunately, the people running this place have this rule of "settling our differences" or whatever, and about a half hour later we sat facing each other in a tiny room. She sat glaring at me with her arms crossed. I stared back at first, but it's kinda hard throwing someone a death glare while holding an ice pack to your face. At some point, I said, "I think we're supposed to talk to each other."
She said nothing. When people ignore me, it makes me pretty mad, so I said, "Look, I don't know what it is you have against me, but if it doesn't stop, we have a problem. I don't get why you seem so mad all the time. Have I done anything to you other then refuse you a place to sit? Geez, get over it."
When she didn't reply, I decided to go about it a different way. "It was a good punch, though."
She stopped glaring at me when I said that. Fifteen minutes later, we were released back into the wild that is the mental hospital, and I went back to my seat by the window. She followed, but this time, she took the armchair across from mine.
"Sorry I freaked," she said softly, and actually seemed to mean it. After that, we actually grew pretty close, and she grew less violent. To this day, she's still known for her punches, but she doesn't give them that often. I think that counts as improvement.

Unlikely (part 2)

      When I first got here, I hated everything and everyone. I found it unfair that my mom thought I belonged here. I was silent, and thankfully, the doctors and nurses respected that. They escorted me to a room where I would stay with one other girl. I'd sat on my bed, staring at her. She sat in the corners of the room, legs pulled to her chest, one wrist clutching the other on her knees. One of the problems with me being me: I can't stay in the same room with someone for a long period of time without saying something. So after an hour of watching her stare at her bed, I asked, "Why are you in the corner?"
Without looking at me, she answered, "There's no where else to sit."
      I glanced at her bed and noticed that it was empty. I looked back at her. "You can sit on your bed, can't you?"
She slowly shook her head. "No. Someone is already sitting there. I don't want to be rude."
I shrugged and looked at the empty space. "I don't think they'll mind."
She shook her head again. "No, he will."
      "So, it's a he?"
That got a nod out of her.
      "What's his name?"
Another shake of her head. I decided to leave it at that and told her to get some sleep.
     I woke a little later to the sound of springs groaning. I opened my eyes and in the darkness watched the girl walk to the door. She stood there for a moment before raising an arm and softly knocking four times on the metal. Then, she turned, and I could see her face. Her green eyes were large and shining, and she looked at me for a moment before returning to her corner. There she sat and resumed hugging her knees, but her eyes remained big and bright. She barely even blinked. Moments later, a nurse, who's name I would later learn to be Kristen, rushed in and wrapped her arms around the girl, softly shushing her as the girl began to cry. Finally, the girl became silent, and the nurse looked at me.             "Will you help me?" She asked. I got up and went to assist her as she lifted the small girl onto her bed.    When she was asleep, the girl actually looked at peace, unlike how she looked when she was awake. I don't know why, but I wished she would always look like this.
        The next day, I went to a couple sessions to "talk about my problems" or whatever, where I remained silent. When I returned to the room, there she was, in her corner. The only difference was that this time, her pale brown hair was down instead of in two braids. I didn't say anything to her, only moved to my bed and went to sleep. Later again, I heard the groan of springs, but no knocks. I opened my eyes and saw the girl tossing and turning on her bed, fast asleep but far from peaceful. I jumped up and went to the door, on which I knocked four times, as she had the night before. But this time, no one came. I waited a few minutes before moving to the girl's bed and sitting beside her. I pulled her into my arms and held her tightly. She woke from her nightmare and noticed my presence. I still held her, though, and stroked her hair gently. "You okay?" I asked softly.
She nodded once and whispered a thank you.
    "My name's Dale," I said after that.
    "Bren."
After that night, she never knocked on the door again.
And that's how I met my first friend here.

Interrupting this string of short stories because...

...I have so much stuff to do, and am stressed with so much more. In the past four hours, I've succeeded in completing my math and vocab homework, but have yet to read pages 47-97 of Night and finish a worksheet on it. Also, I still have to finish my 20 blogs, which this entry is going towards. Really, the reason I'm rambling on is because I feel kinda guilty. 

I feel selfish, too. For the last few weeks, I've skipped out on Youth because of how much homework and projects I have. Every Sunday, sometime between three and six, I get the same text from him. 

"Youth?"

     I'm tired of having to reply with stuff like "I can't, I have a project to do," or "I'm totally worn out because I spent the last twenty-four hours at a friend's house and I'm beat". Honestly, I'm mad, because I would have had these blogs done, like, two weeks ago if it weren't for the other classes. I think it's kind of insane to have one student turn in four projects in different subjects on the same day or in the same week. 

        But that's not really the main problem. I feel like I'm blowing him off, because this is the only time I get to see him. We're both so busy during the week, and when one of us asks the other if they want to do something like a movie or something, it is at the most inconvenient time. Seriously, three or four weeks ago, he asked me if I wanted to go see Les Mis with him and some friends. I sincerely wanted to say yes, but I'd already promised to babysit my little sisters. Mostly, why I wanted to go so much, is because I'd spoken to him about it so much before then, and he wanted to see it with me his first time. I'd told him to text me afterwards and give me his thoughts on it, and honestly, I thought he would forget. He is, and I'm not the only one who thinks this, the champion of ignoring texts. But he did text me back after the movie, and told me he enjoyed it a lot. I told him that when it came out on DVD, we would watch it together, and he agreed. We also planned to watch this other movie together, and that was two weeks ago. Since then, we've barely talked. We haven't watched the movies. Today, he'd texted me for the first time in the last week. I told him sorry I couldn't go tonight, but I missed talking to him. Apparently, he misses me too. I hate the fact that, no matter how close we are, he thinks that Youth is the only time we can see each other. I hate that so much. I'm really trying to keep hoping and wishing that he likes me back, and I know he's forgetful and stuff, but I just don't know. 

Because he didn't wish me a happy birthday.                                         ~Liz

I Just Wanna Run (part 2)

     It was years later when the cloaked men came. There were six of them, and all, in my sisters' words, quite handsome. On the night they came, I was constantly woken by the sound of my sisters squealing. Finally, I'd gone and sat among them around the fire in the large room connecting the smaller each of us had. They had welcomed me into their circle, and my favorite sister, Ennis, held my hand as the other girls fawned over the men.

   "Do you think they are here to choose a bride?" One asked. Another snorted and said, "If so, you're out of luck, Etzel."

After ten minutes of this sort of talk, I finally asked, "Are they so handsome? I don't think so."

      "That's because you're too young to understand, Elli. You will, in time. In fact, you're so cute, one might just fancy you."

In all honesty, I felt sick at Etzel's comment. I couldn't think of a fate worse then being chosen to marry any man. Little did I know I'd felt something somewhat like love before. 

    "What do you think, Ennis?" I asked. She was the eldest, which meant she must have been the wisest. 

She had thought about this before patting my hand and saying, "Handsome or not, these men have special powers. If one chooses me, I know that he will do anything to protect me."

     I hoped she was right, for two weeks after their arrival, one of the cloaked men had pronounced his love for Ennis. There was a banquet, and much glee and happiness, and then she was gone. After that, the castle seemed so much larger, and so very empty. I refused to attend lunches and dinners with the men, in the fear that one of them might take me away. Even though I hated the castle, I feared the cloaked men more. 

Over and over in my head, I played Ennis's words. They'll protect us. That's what husbands do. 

But then came the day I was wandering the tall towers of the castle. I came across a man in a long red cloak. He was staring out one of the small windows. I thought about walking past him, then decided it would be best to help him.

        "Excuse me?" I ask, "Are you lost?"

He doesn't look at me. "Quite. But I don't mind. I like the view from here."

        "Oh." 

  I'd known every inch of the castle, and knew that, apart from where he stood, there were better views.                "Follow me," I'd said. And, to my surprise, he did. I led him up the stairs and to one of the walkways along the inner wall of the castle. From there, you had a view of the rolling hills, the gardens, the lake, and beyond, the homes of the village we protected and the forests surrounding it all. 

       "This is amazing," the man said softly. 

       "Yes," I replied.  

  I could tell by his voice that he wasn't like the others. He was younger, and not harsh and loud with his words. I noticed that he always kept his hood up. Actually, in this moment, his hood was down, but I couldn't see his eyes. The wind seemed to purposefully sweep his dark bangs in front of them. 

He seemed to be surprised that I still stood beside him. "Why do I have the feeling you don't like me, much," he asked. 

      I shrugged, then realized how unladylike that was. "It's not like that. I just don't think I've found a reason to like you, yet."

   He chuckled. "Well, that I can understand. You're young."

I raised an eyebrow. "Are you assuming that if I were as old as my other sisters, then I would find you any more attractive?"

"Perhaps."

He reached out and patted me on the shoulder. "I shall see you at supper, then?"

Then he raised his hood and left.