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Dedicated to Mariyammashkoora ! For being one of the best readers there is...
~•~Replaying it is easy, but nothing I see in this recording says that it'll give me an answer. I give it a sound of hopeless with the exhaling bitterness of my breath. Putting the phone down, I shake my foot off the bed sheets, the weather is never quite right once it gets darker. Today's hotter than ever, Fall is setting down but not completely.
I give the window a strong pull, releasing it's grip. The crescent moon still hovers there, flowing with streaks of autumn leaves ascending and descending. Wonderful leaves. It isn't as clear in the dark, they just move around with all the crackling and hushing through the mid air like an ocean of them could barrel down in a flash.
It's been a week and I recount to myself that things aren't getting worse, but also never better. Forgetting everything was the first real plan to begin with, all things in school: like the screams, an old leather book, and my grades. Mom hadn't known anything, and I'm never sure if this kind of plan works. Keeping it a secret–they sometimes work, but only when I know it isn't big of a deal and the particular person isn't some like mom to begin with. So maybe, anytime soon when I'm ready, I'll be there standing directly in front of her eyes, repeating something that I might have already done.
And additionally, the video still counts as a secret, but this one might be ought to keep to myself, since no one could understand why I'd lay my eyes on a tape of expressionless men in suit capturing my cousin.
It's what I've been doing all week. And the results are an emptiness of nothing. That's why tomorrow when the heat in my mind will cool down a bit, I'm going to start from one stepping stone to the other, and hopefully, school is a good place to start.
-–-
The clock isn't going faster anytime soon as I've been tapping the corners of my lunch tray for the eighteenth time. Luckily, things weren't as busy when I came here, good old Mrs. Sullivan let us out after only a thirty minute quiz. Plus, science isn't the worst subject.
I try harder to keep up with my patience, almost running out. He's told specifically to be here, surely we have the same lunch on a Wednesday. Austin looks like a guy who can keep promises, hopefully he's in that kind of mood now.
I tap another four corner of the tray, giving the cold PB sandwich another bite. The ground never stops stomping with more people coming through, chatters were almost enough to make it seem like this is the only room filled with freedom to say anything. Some people are loud and obnoxious, and they leave a nasty bruise to the floor. Today it's easy to guess, tomato soup. And then some are just, well... people. People who eat. I never decide which one I am, I've never enjoyed eating anything here, and waiting for someone makes me feel like an idiot as I process it in my head over and over.
A thud hits my table, it's not big enough to grab attention to people, at least it's a relief. I stop in my mid-chew on the sandwich, wanting the questions answered already.
I hear a familiar mumbling from Lisa, her head turning to Austin as she says, "Told you it was her." They take the empty seat across me, she gives the first smile, a hopeful gleam in her bright brown eyes.
"Sorry," Austin says, taking a seat. "Gym class took longer, I had to, um...," he says, now with a slight cringe.
Lisa continues, "Find a new pair of–"
"Don't," he demands. He gives her a nasty look, but not long enough to make me wonder what all of it means.
"Plus, the line was goddamn long, you know how it is."
YOU ARE READING
The World's Aftermath [ON MAJOR EDIT]
Science FictionA student with curiosity and a senseless mind like Cleo knows nothing's ever changed for her town, Asphrone. She never felt right living with the odd sense of poor humanity and the brutal technology that's taken over. As she is given a dangerous tas...