March W3
I've decided to write the dates like this. Professor Maynard gave me this journal to "keep me entertained". I think he just wants me out of his way, even though he's the most useless scientist in the quadrant.
I feel like I should at least try to write in this journal every day. It's not like I have literally anything else to do other than class.
I feel like my new caretaker is already getting worn down. I dont know alot about him. He's coming to my room in a little while to walk me to the classroom. I'm not excited to go at all. The only good things I see there is Bri and other students - considering there are only six others besides me. Ms. Edwin isn't a bad teacher, I just dont see why we have to learn about stuff before the war that really mattered.
I feel like people above ground have only heard the controversial parts of the quadrant system. I dont know how different other quads are compared to 94, but I know our rules are alot stricter. I can name countless times others or myself received punishments for idiotic reasons. If you use a curse word down here and your heard by somebody, you practically get crucified.
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I dont like most of the adults here. I only like a selected few, but most of them just yell at me or get annoyed with me. Some people here just dont like kids in general. But I respect the people who make it clear that they dont like children, other than the adults who just scold kids with no reasoning or warning. People who are under 18 years old are considered to be children here - the equivalent of an infant. It's insane, it's almost like the day you turn 18 the staff here starts to respect you. Not like the adults around here give anybody any respect at all.
It's almost noon, so I should get dressed. Remember to maintain this, Maxx.
I close the small leather book and toss aside my writing instrument. I look at at the ceiling, disappointed for what seems like the millionth time by the shack metal. I hate being here. I swear, one day I'm just taking Bri and Sven out of here and we'll all be adventurers. We'll be like that script tale we learned with Ms. Edwin, the three musketeers. I barely read along with that script, but I remember they were very brave. I want to be brave.
I can see in my head my caretaker coming into my room. I really dont want to go to class. I honestly dont really know what we're learning - but this quarter is literature. I'm just glad we got through last quarter, because it was math, and I hate math.
I get out of my chair, remembering what I was supposed to be doing. I grab my boots and put them on quickly, then looking down at my attire, deciding that it's good enough. I'm almost positive I cant be dresscoded by above ankle boots and a fur coat. I dont understand why we have dresscode rules - the total amount of people here is a few under 40. I always forget to read the overall chart in the hallway on the way to class.
My shoulders shutter slightly when I hear the sliding door open. I wish I could know the exact number of how many times I've heard that door open.
"Good morning Maxx," I turn around to see his stupid smiling goatee'd face. "How are you this morning?"
"Why do you all ask me the same thing every morning.." I mutter under my breath, sitting down on my bed cot. I looked away from him, but I could feel the shift of mood between both of us. "I'm just doing my job, buddy." I hear him take out his stupid little note journal, probably writing down exactly what I just said in quotes. Nobody really expects me to be all gung-ho with the caretakers. The only one I ever befriended was the one last year, Sheila. Your not supposed to know the names of your caretakers, and when your done with them your never supposed to see them again. I havent seen Sheila since she had to transfer to a new kid, so I guess she did one job right.
