Disaster

Meet the new girl

I made it to Piedmont.
       Finally.
      The main building wasn't big and had a very poorly trained security. Most looked like normal people trying to look threatening. Wasn't working very well they mainly looked out of place. I walked to the front gate.
      "Hands up where we can see them!"
        So much for nice welcoming, but since they have the big boy guns I do as they say. "Get off the bike and don't m-m-ove." They weren't very intimidating at first glance and now they really looked like kids. Again I do as I'm told. Don't want to get shot and all. They slowly walk up to me and grab both my wrists. Two guys padding both my arms legs and about to check my front area. That is until I backed up a bit. A woman came in and got the check done quick and painless.
      They pulled out all the knives I had hidden, four in my boots, two in my jacket's inside pocket, two in my pants with a covering. I took all my mom and dad's mini knives they had in the kitchen. Dad worked at setting down the carpet for people and mom had these nice knives for cutting fruits. Different blades and all.
        They took them all without asking me any questions while opening the gate they took my bags to see if anything else was inside. There was an I didn't tell them to see their reactions. They were cautious after they pulled all the knives.
       The shelter wasn't all I thought it would be. It resembled more like a busy open house middle school than a post-disaster area. My throat tightened. People.
       Real people, not Roaches not the Reyes but real normal, confused, scared human people. The awkward goons grabbed me by both arms and pushed me forward. Walking and dodging as many stares as I could from those that hadn't seen a teenage girl in a while. Most of the inhabitants of the shelter were middle-aged or late twenties. There were a few children but a few other teens that look more in their tweens.
       We passed old classrooms that we're now turned into rooms, with makeshift beds, cloth scattered all over at an attempt of sheets.We passed the cafeteria, and headed for the "principals office".
       One of the goons loosened his grip on me and went for the doorknob. The door made a giant creak that echoed through the hall. There was a stereotypical borderline, desk at least. There were a few men standing around. Work in their hands and stopping to notice the newcomer. Me. There's a wooden bench next to the doorway. The two goons push me down to sit, not letting my shoulders go. My eyes wander around the room noticing men that haven't shaved, the four o'clock shadow reminding me too much of my father. Where would he be? Would he look for me, even after all this? What kind of parent forgives someone so easily, after being hurt so badly. The clock's tick- tock was never ending. Time continued leaving the dead and taunting the living.

Tick. Tock.

A largely built man of about six feet, around thirty years old, stood up from behind the desk. His eyes old, but sharp. All his features were accented. His jawline square, cheek bones revealing malnutrition, dark gray eyes. He didn't have to tell you he was in charge he looked the part.

"What's your name kid?" his voice bounced off the walls.

"I don't have one sir," I answered with as much voice as I could find. Still struggling to speak. His eyes squinted, not satisfied with my answer. Neither was. I wasn't the same girl I was a week ago. Wasn't even the same girl I was ten minutes ago.

"Listen, kid, I don't have time for this you need a name, you have a name and I am not taking this bull of yours. Give us a name to write you down and make this easier on us." He was impatient, stubborn and a total airhead. He didn't seem the kind to yell, just give you an unpleasant stare. I was going to have as much fun here as I did at school. Too bad for him I had a mouth and was planning on using it.

"What's in a name? Disaster has struck, there really shouldn't be a need. I had one before, but now it's the present not before, so why not enjoy this gift that you have been given and take it. It would be rude not to." I could feel the grin rising from my cheek, which I failed to hide. Though I didn't get the reaction I was going for.

I looked back at the scary man in front of me and noticed a faint grin. Well, that was a bust.

He relaxed his face not hiding his impatience. "So, you have a mouth. Listen, kid, I don't know if you're serious about staying here, but I'll make a deal with you. You can stay anonymous or make up a name whatever, but you can't lie to us. Capiche." I don't know if he's crazy or not. He didn't seem all that annoyed. I would have kept talking seeing where his buttons were; then again I needed a place to stay,
        "Yes I do have a mouth. I use it to eat, and stuff. Thank  you for noticing. I'll stay anonymous, if you mind or not doesn't matter to me. The truth part, sure why not, but you can't ask for my name. " I didn't really care what they asked, didn't do much before the disaster, or anything at all for that matter.
       This seemed to satisfy him for now. He pulled into a drawer and grabbed a stack of paper. They were just barely being held together by a single staple. Mr. Moody put the stack in front of me. Giving me one of those annoyingly smug grins.
        "You'll have to fill all of the pieces that correspond to your situation, life before, education, etc. So we can get you something to do, while we're here with no outside support. " He finished speaking. I grabbed the stack of papers from the desk and nearly dropped it from its weight. This'll take forever to finish. Before I asked he pointed to a chair and put a pen beside where the stack once was.
        I got straight to it. I hate paperwork.