Where Fans Go To Die

Cole

A woman named Felicite hands Avia and I a proper meal as she speaks. "So technically, certain prisoners have been selected from the prison to be taken to a place, the barns. Since it's just new, we made it a barn for the food and water to survive first, then the fangirl and fanboy craziness will be added on later."

Just a month ago, up until now, I've seen people disappear. Disappear from the 7,400s fields or just disappeared because they did. I thought they died, I haven't spoke about it to anyone or barely thought about it since it's a dark place you don't want to think about death.

Avia stands up in the truck and stretches, looking like she just came out of a salon. Felicite hands me a small phone, which is probably to contact home. I check my hair first. Over a month, it's gotten pretty long, past my ears. I ruffle the brown hair and begin to comb it out a bit. "Go on, call home." I give a look to Avia, then to the phone. I know the number, I just don't want to.

Dialing, I call Aunt Bethany and Uncle Graham. "Hi, um Aunt Bethany..." My voice squeaks as I cower alittle. "It's Cole, thanks for pouring cereal on me. And tell Uncle that I say thanks for pouring pasta sauce on me. Also, tell my parents I hate them, I hated home and that I'm where I belong." I finish off, "and I met a girl named Avia. And she is just wonderful, she's better than the world's best personalities combined. Okay, I think that's it. Bye." I hang up, taking a breath and handing the phone to Avia.

She smiles and rests her head on my shoulder, locking her arm with mine as we ride the truck. Felicite decided to go back up front. The phone is answered, and I just hear her weak compliments like, "Thanks for sending me here, I met the best person in the whole world, better than all my fandoms put into a hot chocolate cup and stirred together." She hangs up and begins to cry into my chest.

"It's okay." I say, ruffling her hair. "They saw our masks as our identity, but out real selves are behind it. We have feelings, we having a heart. They have feelings, they have a heart. Their's was just corrupted like the government, and ours wasn't. Our was natural feelings caused by past generations of fangirls and fanboys."

We just let the words sink in for a moment, then Felicite comes back in, holding new pairs of clothes. She places then on a seat and walks back out.

I take mine, baggy, of course, and slip them on facing the wall. I turn around, our jail uniforms look like casual clean clothes now, and I am greatful.

We sit back down and huddle together in the corner as rain begins to drum the side of the truck as I slowly fall asleep.