Blurred Lines

Real big difference

tw:alluding to not ok lifestyles idk man this ones not that bad
Jeremy pov

Treading lightly, I swiftly maneuvered through the various obstacles, gun clutched tightly. I was always a terrible shot, but now it was going to very well get me killed.

I heard a small thump from my left and dove behind a blockade, peering over top to see my enemy, eight feet away and unaware of where I went.

I hear guns go off off to my left, stopping as quickly as they started, and I know both sides have lost some.

Turning my attention back to the nearest attacker, I see he's gotten close enough for me to hit properly.

I dart out from behind my hiding spot and fire off three times, getting him twice.

"Dammit Heere!" I hear and chuckle as I move on, knowing I've given away my position by paintballing Rich.

I'm stalking between the set pieces in the center when I hear a click, too close for comfort. I lunge and a pink splatter appears where I just was.

I turn and fire a few times, trying to hit Jenna but to no avail. She's moving too quickly. I whirl around as I hear a gun go off just in time to get an orange paintball to the chest.

"Darn." I curse, heading for the outside ring of other casualties.

A few minutes later the game ends, and I'm not sure who won, then again, no one really cares.

That's kind of how things work around here. You follow your schedule and stick with the guidelines given to you, and I'd quickly fit the mold presented to me and rose through the ranks as the years went by, and after a few I was sent on my first mission, just a simple stakeout.

I was with a few of the kids my age I knew, and apparently they thought we worked well together and kept sending us on missions together. Over time we grew closer into a friend group, which I was thankful for. 

I didn't feel the need to talk to more than the three I'd almost been forced to be friends with, and we weren't allowed to do much stuff for fun but at mealtimes wed sit together and talk, and on missions we'd form inside jokes.

Life was structured here, even I could tell at such a young age. I switched from getting up whenever I wanted and walking to school, then going home when my dad remembered to pick me up to waking up at six am sharp every day, training and learning with strict instructors.

And yet, I thrived. In a metaphorical sense, I went up in rank, always staying inside the lines presented to me as the consequences for doing otherwise were dire.

a/n ominous ending ftw