Next Generation

Chapter 5

Finni's brother (Jess)^^

~~~

The first day of prep for stage two began today. We were split up into groups of 3 and sent to the same therapist. Who we would visit one by one. And the next day we would go to another therapist.

They weren't really therapists though, we just weren't given a name for them so we would refer to them as therapists.

Throughout the week I had found myself waiting for the moment where George and I would sneak out to see each other, but I knew it couldn't happen. It was forbidden and important that we stayed away for an entire week. Locked up with the rest of our own gender.

On the last day, the number of girls had decreased by ten, and I heard the same had happened with the boys. Jean had slipped into the council's meeting room and had heard a few of them talking about eliminating from the prep as well as stage two. She had warned the girls to focus and work as hard as they could,  yet still the weakest girls and boys were cut.

~~~

Each of us shared a room with another girl striver. I shared mine with one of the youngest girls, Aimee. She was the smallest out of the strivers, but not the youngest. Aimee had very long, black hair, and she still had that sign of youth most children didn't have anymore. She was only 13, yet she managed to survive with her partner on that island too. Aimee was the kind of girl that you would be happy to spend time with, no matter who you were she could've made you smile. Other than Jean, Aimee was the only other girl I talked to.

That morning, I had woken up in an empty dorm. I couldn't find that tiny brunette anywhere. She wasn't in the bathrooms,  nor was she hiding in the common area. I refused to beleive that she had gotten cut.

"Aimee?" I asked, lifting up her duvet. No sign of her.

I jogged down towards Jean's room and knocked on her door. Come on Jean,  open up. I could her feet rustling on the other side of the door, then I could hear what I thought to be Jean falling. The loud thump could've woken up her roommate and the rest of the girls.

Jean opened up the door, rubbing her bruised knees. Her dreadlocks had been pulled back into a bun. I could see the faint stain of drool on the side of her cheek as she tried to rub the sleep out of her eyes.

"Looking good." I smirked, trying to hold back the laughter.

She gave me a look the devil would have given if I had woken him up this early.

"Whhhaat..." she grumbled.

"It's Aimee," I said, "She's missing."