Hey guys! I've been neglecting this blog! So sorry! I'm working on a new story, and between writing it, and school and such, I've been rather busy! Anyways, as an apology for ignoring my wonderful blog, here the first part of my new story:
Ugh. I scrunch
my eyes closed tighter. The blaring white still seeps into my view. A minute
later, I give up and open my eyes. The lights are still off, and my head aches.
It’s obviously not time for Waking yet. I sigh and blink rapidly, willing
myself to seal the split in my head that I am sure is there. The girl in the
bed next to mine moans softly in her sleep. I sigh. I hate this place. It’s
bloody awful. This place seriously lacks in color, expressions, free time, and
the good emotions. I don’t even know what the good emotions are, just that
they’re not here. The work they have us do is deathly boring, and twice as
terrifying. Not as much now as it used to be though, you get used to it after a
while. I wonder if there used to be comfort in others. Now the only comfort is
knowing your bloody work is done and you can remove yourself from this dreaded
place, emotionally of course. I close my eyes a moment longer, willing my brain
to remove the seal off its memories. I’m rewarded with nothing but an old thought.
A song, singing my name to a vaguely familiar tune. Delyncey, Delyncey. It calls to me softly. It makes my heart ache.
Nothing in this entire bloody place is right! Nothing, not a face, a smell, a
sight, a taste, or a sound that gives me a glance into me. I spend most of my
hours that aren’t spent working trying to think. Think about what lies behind
this place. I call it the Cloud. And quite the cloud it is, gray and menacing.
I open my eyes again and move my tongue around my mouth thoughtfully, feeling
my teeth. I get up silently, tip toeing carefully to the metal door. Out of
habit, I reach toward the door and pull. Locked. No surprise there. I study my
face in the shiny silver surface. My red hair and gray eyes study me as I study
them. My hair is neat but wavy, my eyes look hard. My drab nightgown hangs off
of me. I’m skinny as a stick, despite the fact of how large the portions they
give us are, also that I eat all of it. I glance at the electronic schedule
board secured to the wall next to the door. Today is Saturday, I have exercise
and work. My reflection frowns at me. Basically, exercise is walking around in a
circle for three hours, and work is work. I glance back at my reflection and my
throat burns as I move my tongue a certain way, mimicking an Official I saw
doing the same. I move my tongue and push my throat in a certain way to make a
sound. I am rewarded with a small, startled sounding sound, the letter “I”. I
see a smile grow on my face, then a grimace. The sound makes my throat burn. I
am determined to teach myself to speak. I know how, I can feel, but when I try,
the pain is intense, the sounds soft and unintelligible, and the risk high. I
know every letter of the alphabet from school, by my age, somewhere around 15
or 16 I assume, you’re expected to write fluently. Of course we only write
official things, like notes sent from Work, or records of other people. I
suppose sorting information, running it through and recording it could be
interesting, all the things you could learn about, but all the information is
coded, and all the names are numbered. I wonder if anyone here has a name but
me. At least I think I have a name. I
study myself in the door again. I guess I kind of look like a Delyncey. Other
girls in the room stir and I take a glance at the electronic schedule again.
It’s only a couple minutes to Waking, and I scurry quickly but quietly back to
my bed, tucking myself under the covers just as the lights go on, as well as
the cameras, and the Waking call. I can hear the audible pop of the door unlocking, and quickly jump out of bed.
More will be updated soon!
~Youngmusician77
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