Over Yonder Wall.

Sorra

Waking up in a pile of debris and your own prized possessions isn't exactly what everyone wants to accomplish in their life. But some of us don't have a choice in that matter; a lot of us do not have a choice in that matter. You either do it or you die, and I'm not ready to die just yet, I'll show the world - despite the world trying to show me. I'll be damned if I'm stopped by Nature itself, I'm going down the way I want to go: with bravery and justice.

My eyes shot open, burning: bloodshot. I don't know how long I've been asleep, but I doubt it's been that long, the sun isn't even down yet. Or maybe I just slept so long the sun just came back up. No, I know that 'cause I never sleep that long; survival reasons and tactics.

Name's Scott, but it's been awhile since I've even said that. I don't really talk that much: I'm anti-social most of the time. Well, I do speak to Bethany, but I'll get into that later. I'm thirteen-years-old, but with this time it feels like I'm in my mid-thirties. I'm rather small for my age, 'bout the size of a ten-year-old. I got red hair- nearly blonde, my eyes are a orange-gold color.

Quinncy was next to me, he's my feline pal 'til the end. Well, uh, sometimes he's an ass, but I love him. I found him next to "
The Wall", pretty sure he came over it. Maybe that's why he can talk. Yep, that's right, talkin'. I don't know what makes him talk, but I don't question it anymore: I'm immune to it at this point. It's kinda cool, I guess.

Quinncy has grey and orange fur: a ugly blend, if I'm being honest. Remember the cat from "Alice in Wonderland", yeah that, but an ugly fur blend.

He was sleeping next to me, slightly moving every time I took a breath in and out. I shook him for a second and he hissed  at me slightly.

"Aye, get up," I said, shaking him more,"It hasn't been that long."

He opened his eyes and slightly looked at me. Then he said the most common thing he's ever said, "Screw off."

He had a high-pitch voice that some how made that rude laugage cute and funny. Like if a toddler said it and then everyone laughed at the fact they know the word.

"You're a cat that talks, doesn't mean you're better than me."

"Actually, it kinda does. Like I said before, screw off," he said, laying his head back down.

I looked up at the red sky and took a deep breath in. I knew what would get both of us up. I jumped like a professional gymnast on crack, hopping up faster than I ever have. I landed on my feet and glad I landed on the blanket I slept on and not the sand,rocks, or broken glass.

He jumped fast and swiftly, like he's just been stabbed with a knife: suprised. He started breathing hard which isn't that surprising, he's old, and I don't know how long talking cats live. But he's lived ten years now, and looks and acts like a kitten. "The Wall", always produces things like that: weird things and impossible things. I often walk by to see what I can find, luckily I found good ol' Quinncy.

"Why? Why do you have to constantly  proceed on make me actually do stuff? Can't I just lay on a blanket and relax?" He said, with a angry expression on his face.

"Nope! Not with me," I said, smirking at him, "You love it and you know it."

"Yeah doing stuff that doesn't matter, worth getting up," he said, rolling his eyes.

"You bet it is!" I said, getting the Satchel I kept right next to the little blanket we slept on.

He made a 'ugh' noise to show how unamused he was at the jokes I was making. He acted like he doesn't like doing anything, but I know that wasn't true; he likes to be active when I'm not looking.