Chasing Violets

Really?! Again?!

So here's Part Five of Chasing Violets. Did anyone notice that I've been updating with more and more frequency? Personally, I think school has a direct correlation with the amount of writing I do. Does anyone else have that same aspect of writing, or something similar? Probably not... oh well. Comments? Questions? Concerns? More Comments? LOL XD, go ahead, start reading.

------------------------------------------------------------ 2 Months Ago -----------------------------------------------------------

Trekking through Louisiana during the night was probably not the best idea. But how was I to know that the monsters never slept? Every place in New Orleans was like Times Square on New Years Eve, crowded with drunks, couples, and general partygoers. Didn't these things need to sleep at all? But that wasn't the worst part. The worst part was the soaring numbers of Officials that continued to crowd the streets. They seemed to step out of thin air, blending into the crowd so seamlessly. Only Amya's sharp eyes had saved us from them. She ran into them a lot more than I did, so she knew what to look for. She said to look for the things that stood out. What stands out on the Refined? Everything's the same. But as I focused on identifying people, I quickly found the difference. The Officials never laughed, or smiled, or seemed to even be part of the non-stop parties. They stood in the crowd, but their mask of determined concentration stood out even in the throngs of aliens. They were on high alert, straining to eradicate anything that seemed even remotely Uncurable.

"My wig itches!" Amya complained on a whisper, barely more than a breath. I didn't begrudge her. Mine did too. And It felt so weird to have all my hair bundled up inside it, like I was wearing a winter hat or something.

"Mine too. You should've thought about that when you made it though." I stuck my tongue out at Amya before she could feel offended about it. In fact, there were a lot of things that were uncomfortable with our outfits. The white-on-white ensemble looked so alien to me, and the starkness of it gave me a headache. It reminded me of the disinfected cleanliness of a hospital room. The contacts also weren't quite the same blue as the Refined's electric blue. It was too deep to be replicated correctly, but Amya had left all of her lab equipment in New York, so we couldnt fix it. I'd suggested we make the detour; It wouldnt be too much of a hassle. Plus, I'd love to see the place where she grew up. *OK fine, I was also scared shitless. Hunting down a twisted family member while surrounded by enemies who would kill you in a second is pretty terrifying, you know.*

After much debate, and a little bit of huffing, we had amended our route so that we'd go along the coast to New York and then cut straight across to Washington. Assuming we made it out of New Orleans alive, that is. Our odds weren't looking so good.

We wound our way through the pulsing crowds of people, stepping quickly out of the way of the drunk Refined who swayed unsteadily to the music. There was a girl who was taking shots of some green drink, and she turned towards us screaming with drunken happiness. We flinched.

We had just made it to a series of alleyways when I noticed that the officials seemed all of a sudden more numerous. They must have been converging. Biting my lip, I picked up my pace, weaving in and out of the crowds. I made a sharp turn up one of the alleys, and swore underneath my breath. A young Refined couple was up against the wall, the woman's legs wrapped firmly around the man. Horny little fuckers. They didn't even know I was there.

I backtracked onto the street, before noticing Amya hadn't turned up the alleyway with me. Looking back the way I'd come, I didn't see her anywhere. I strained my neck to see above the crowded streets, looking for any sign of my best friend. Nothing.

"FUCK!"

A few passerbys gave me apalled looks and quickly moved away. Apparently, Refined didn't swear. I glowered at the party, hating every last one of them. The familiar chill that they brought to me ripped through my veins, piercing my core with its icy tendrils.