The Training School *1*

Eat Our Tasteless Breakfast Mush or Be Poisoned!

I walked along the poorly lit corridors for a while. I am cranky, I am hungry, and I am pissed. Considering what I did to that official, not that he didn't deserve to be put in his place, I'd say it's wise for me to be alone right now.

Eventually I smelled food and my nose followed the delicious scent trail that the food left. It smelled way better than it looked. Fingers crossed that it tastes better too. On everyone's tray there was a bowl and three plates. The biggest plate had a large clump of brown mush, it literally looked like dirt brown mashed potatoes fell in love with dirt brown pebbles and they had a supposedly edible, equally dirt brown, baby that is still unknown to the food group.

On the second largest plate, a green block of, I'm guessing mystery meat, sat untouched by everyone. The smallest plate held what seemed to be the most edible-and most liked-dish out of them all: a cookie. Some were oatmeal with raisins, others were oatmeal with peanut butter chips, but they were still better than what looked to be in the bowl. It was filled with a broth so thick, you couldn't see any of its other ingredients. But considering some of the other kids were chewing it, I assumed there had to be some sort of solid food in there.

Right?

I walked to the line with the rest of the students and noticed that the boy in front of me was the same rude twat from yesterday. "Are you always late to everything?" He asks without turning around, so it took me a few seconds to realize he was talking to me.

"I should answer your question because...?" I say sarcastically.

"Because I asked the question." he replies just as smartly.

"Wow, someone's conceited." I state and grab a red tray from the S3's pile. That's when I noticed that the trays were organized by rank and--you guessed it--color.

Green for S1s, blue for S2s, red for S3s, and black for the officials. Seriously what is it with this place and it's color coding?

"Wow, someone doesn't follow the rules." Twat boy said, now slightly facing me and eyeing the tray in my hands.

"Oh, and what gave it away: my conversation with BF yesterday, my outfits since I've arrived here, my attitude, or my choice of food tray?"

"Relax, I'm just trying to have a conversation."

"And I'm just trying to make me not wanting to talk to you as clear as possible."

"You know, it wouldn't kill you to be nice. You might actually make some friends." He snaps as the lady behind the counter plopss the greenish mystery meat on our trays. I swear I saw it jiggle as I moved down the line.

"And what good would friends do me?"

"When we pass our S3 test and get sent out into the field, your friends are gonna be the ones that have your back." His idea was so pathetic I actually laughed, earning me a few weird looks from him and everyone else in line.

"Sorry, you're just so delusional it's hilarious!" I state and grab an oatmeal and peanut butter cookie from one of the heating racks while another lunch lady puts the "soup" on my tray.

"Care to explain how I'm 'hilariously delusional'." He grumbles.

"Here's some insight on how this whole thing is really going to happen. When it's our turn to go outside of those gates, it won't matter how many friends you think you have, because it'll be every man for himself."

"Yeah, and how would you know this?" The dude standing behind me asked. That's when I realized that our conversation had drawn a lot of attention from everyone in line.

"Because that's what war does to a person. When you're staring death in the face and you have the opportunity to run, you take it. No matter who you have to throw under the bus to escape." I have no idea where this was coming from but guess what I started feeling again?