Chapter 3

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The sun rises at 5:30, waking me up 1hour before my alarm.
I decide to waste some time and turn on the TV, taking care not to put it on too loud. A blonde haired newsreader pops up on the screen, behind her the triple riots (as we call them) are going on,

"GENETIC EXPERIMENTS ARE GETTING OUT OF CONTROL!" She shouts over the noise, men with yellow crazed eyes, green hair and hoodies try and get into the shot, "THEY NEED TO BE CONTROLLED, THESE RIOTS ARE A DANGER TO SOCIETY!"

I turn the TV off not wanting to see anymore; I cry into my pillow.

~one hour later~

My alarm goes off and I get up, pull on my skinny jeans and black baggy hoodie and stare at my self in the mirror, I see a different person to who I saw this time last year when I looked in the mirror. Last year, I saw Milk chocolate brown hair, grey eyes and a short thin figure staring back; now my hair is fiery red, my eyes are green like emeralds and I am tall at least 5"8.
I fix my bed head, clipping my hair back in weird places and putting it in a top-knot and think about my make up but I don't do it, I don't need make up today.

I hear the Beep of the bus outside, it's waiting for me. I run out of the house grabbing my bag on the way and shout a goodbye to my mother.

"Hey Hazel," murmurs Ciara her head buried in a book as usual, her long black hair swamping her face.

"Hi, watch a readin'?" I ask trying to make conversation with my antisocial best-friend.

"My new teacher gave us this stupid book to read, it's an insult to my intelligence."

When Ciara was 13 she had a PGT (Personality Genetic Test) that changed her from a mouthy, underachieving teenager, to an overachieving walking encyclopaedia.

"Did you know that that the population of ants is estimated over 10trillion! And the human population is about 7 billion..." She says (there proof if you didn't believe me).

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