The Survivors

Chapter 11

It was already noon when we stopped in the parking lot of a small waffle house. Meanwhile, it was so bright outside that you could see the beautiful sides of spring. I never paid attention to it before, but now I couldn't take my eyes off the blue sky.

In Black Rock, the sky was just grey. It almost seemed as if the color of the sky was adapting to the mood in the camp.

"Are you hungry?" Cole asked.

"A little." I lied. Because the truth is, I was starving, but I didn't want to sound desperate. I could do without food. But at that very moment my stomach made itself felt by a loud grumble.

Cole laughed. "I'll go get us something." As soon as Cole opened his door, I stepped out of mine.

"What do you think you're doing?" Cole turned to me and raised an eyebrow. 

"I'm coming with you." I said pulling my shoulders up. 

"Yeah I can see that , but you'd better not, because you..." 

"I look old enough." I interrupted him. In fact, it was true. Both my shoulder-long black hair and black eyebrows, as well as my green eyes, made me look a little older than I actually was. And the red lines in my hair of Vida's tint also supported this. 

Cole was still staring at me a bit, but didn't say a word and just walked towards the waffle house.

The waffle house looked bigger from the outside than it actually was. There were only a few tables. At one of them was a woman and a man talking. Most likely a couple. In the back corner an older man reading the newspaper. When he saw us, he looked up for a moment and gave me a small smile, which I tried to return as best as possible. The whole thing kind of reminded me of my tenth birthday. Mom and Dad had gone with me to the waffle house in town and I was allowed to eat as much as I wanted. My stomach hurt at the memory. 

Cole approached the counter. Behind it was a young man not much older than Cole. When he saw me he grined at me dirty, but I just rolled my eyes and tried not to show that I was disgusted with what I believed what he was thinking. 

"Two scrambled eggs, ham, two pancakes without syrup and coffee." Cole ordered, 'cause it was the only sets he could get for the twenty dollar we had. 

The waiter, while he was preparing our food, kept looking back and forth between me and Cole. Somehow I got a bad feeling. 

I turned my gaze to the small TV set that was in the waffle house. I just saw a news show where a man with a microphone stood in front of the camera. 

... children are interned for their own good, not just for the safety of American society. My well-educated sources in the Gray Administration have told me that every time a child was taken out of rehabilitation prematurely, it has resulted in the death of the child in question. There is simply no way to reproduce the regulated procedures of medication, physical activity and stimulation that are carried out in these centers to keep the children alive.

Next to me, I heard Cole snorted quietly. My mouth was open in shock when I realized some things. Most people know about the camps but think we are cured there. They have no idea that the camps are total bullshit. No wonder parents don't try to get their kids back. They think their children are being helped there.