I am Mitchell Manson. I am 15 years old. I have spent my life under ground, performing for the man who owns me. I am not a sex slave or anything of that nature if that is what you're thinking, I'm a preformer. My voice is one of the best in the country. I was taken almost 13 years ago by Robert Peterson. Next week I turn 16, making me the eldest child in the caverns, and the first taken. You see, Robert takes dancers, musicians, special affects prodigies, makeup artist's kids, any kid he can get his hands on to set up huge black-market shows. There's over 300 of us here, but I'm, by far, his favorite. I lead the entire cavern. Everyone has a job and everyone does it. I'm like mayor or the preident here, my word is law and all the kids look up to me. I made this go from a small fire and some cans of beans to houses and jobs. You work for favors. Do favors for others, they do favors for you. "Yo, Mitch!" Someone yells. He new guy, got here a moth ago. "'Sup?" I ask, turning to him. He looks at his thumbs as he twirls them. "W-well... I was wondering if you want to grab a bite and go see the glow-stone...?" He practically begs. Not again. I have long, uneven black hair, big baby blue eyes, pail white skin, and an hourglass figure. I think that's why boys are so interested in my. "I don't date." I say, simply. He looks at me with teary eyes. "You don't have to make up excuses to not date me!!" He screams, storming off. I feel terrible. You see, I don't want my story to be known as a love story, I don't want them to see me as some boy's girlfriend. Or that girl who dated this guy. I want people to see me and say, "That's Mitch, the girl who lead a large group of children to freedom!!" I'll never have to sing again, after I get outta here, I can run threw the grass! I look sadly at the stone floor. I sigh, climbing the ladder to my house carved from stone. My house is pink, compared to my dark clothing. It's not big, a tiny kitchen, even smaller breakfast nook, little living room with a fire place, and a cramped room. I like to pretend my shaggy pink rug is grass. I light my candle. It's getting small, I'll need a new one soon. I'll have to ask Lighty, even though I'm behind on favors for her. She says it's ok, that she knows I'm busy, but I still feel awful about it. I change into some pajama pants and a tee-shirt. I sit down with a cup of teas on the couch by the fire. "Hmmm..." I say. Who needs a boyfriend when you can relax with not a care... Ok, not COMPLETELY careless, but still...I grab the book off the arm rest. The horn blows, signalling a new arrival... What? I put on my normal clothes and go to meet him.
~Keith~
I watch as the most beautiful women woman I've ever seen climbs down a rope latter and onto the ground. Her figure was tiny and her skin was pale white. Her baby blue eyes shinning with the torches. Her long black hair goes down to her knees and she has faint freckles on her nose. She looks so pure and innocent... Well, not her red, tight mini skirt and tube top that shows her stomach.
