Flames And Blades

Chapter Two: Stayin' Alive (Or At Least Trying, Currently)

I start my day off late, as per usual. Only this time not in as much of a panic to get to Ipsum High. I do, however, in a manner very unlike my usual self. Take a few extra measures to look my very best for this once in a lifetime shot. Combing and oiling my brown hair so its less mid-length dull, and poofy, and more silky, soft and lengthy. Wearing my best fitting skinny jeans and knee high boots, along with my muted blue blouse that accents my dainty (the nice term, usually I just end up getting called ''too boney, a fact that, no matter how much I eat, doesn't want to change) bone structure quite nicely. Skipping the makeup, not pushing my luck with time, and instead of grabbing my satchel bag and all journaling supplies- I find it best to be over-prepared for this than under.

While practically sprinting out the door, I take a quick second to look at myself in the mirror. The foster house I live in is cramped with those like me, abandoned by those who survived the Destruction. So there's not much room for really anything for anyone. Although, Mrs. Caroline was very persistent that the girls have access to one full-length mirror, even if it meant that we had no money left over for any personal space additions. The mirrors have become something I am very much thankful for, because now I can make the conclusive thought on how I look, which is actually, for the first time I can really ever recall, that I look, well, great.

Not great in a cocky way, but great in the sense that I look professional. But not too professional where I look stuck up. My boots and jeans accentuate my height just the slightest. In most cases, I really do hate being five foot eleven, but today, and yesterday, my height gave me an unknown will of strength. My face, although way too pale for my liking, is kind of, almost glowing, too. All in all, I look great. Shaking my head, I run out the door at top speed ready for anything.

Almost anything.

After a short sprint at my top speed, something I really need to stop doing in jeans and boots, I reach the front of the library, where a sleek black car is waiting for me.

Wow, I think to myself. Surely making an embarrassment of my facial expressions. As the boy from the front of the classroom, gives me what I'm starting to think of as his signature smile- the one where he dips his head and chuckles quietly to himself. Too amazed by the fact that a car, a real car, is taking me somewhere to think much of his actions, I thank him for opening my door and hop in.

I've really got to learn his name before I start to come off as rude, I sigh to myself just as he slides in the through the other door, smirking when he catches sight of me, for some unknown reason. The car starts to get really cold, despite the flashing red thingy on its front claiming to be heating it.

"I know, right? They brought a car, a real flippin' car, to pick us up. How exciting is that?" His dark brown hair drooping just above his green eyes, the same eyes that seem to be twinkling or, less melodramatically put, teasing. Teasing me. But it's true. They brought a freaking car- for what? Two delinquents? Why?

"Exactly, it's a big enough of a shock for me that it's like their sole mission here is just to kidnap us and take us to their mother ship, blaming radiation from the Destruction for 'killing us' and then leaving the planet." 'Radiation from the Destruction' being the group of little boys at Mrs. Caroline's newest conspiracy theory they were naive enough to believe. The Destruction contains no radiation, no science whatsoever. Simply mistreated magic. Although the retort does give tall, dark and unknown back his signature smile. Which makes me smile too, and add on to my small sarcastic rant. "Well this puppy practically provides the whole case, wouldn't you say?" tapping the seat in front of me while speaking, having no legitimate idea what kind of car it actually is. The Demetrains banned them shortly after coming in to 'clean and help Earth'. Shortly after banning all fossil-fuel usage, and strangely the production and ingestion of something called 'processed foods'. Oddly enough though, our rate of most health problems decreased a lot compared to the generations who lived without those banned. No one in this generation even knows what any of that stuff means. All teachers, or adults for that matter, follow this 'monkey see no evil, monkey does no evil' logic, wherein they've never even let us see pictures of these things. Cars being the hardest, since most kids growing up used hand-me-down toys from their parents, and other relatives, things like dinkey cars. And my Sony Walkman. Bless my precious little baby. Some of us without that many things to keep from our parents, still stumble upon small bits and bobbles from corners that haven't been cleared well enough. These things tend to be tied to before the Destruction and, almost always filled with something really cool, meaning we aren't technically allowed to even see it, let alone have it.