Someone is following me. I only catch glimpses of a man in the shadows behind me whenever I steal a glance, but I know that something is wrong...
In the tradition of UK drabbles, this is a story that is exactly 100 words.
Sixteen-year-old Piss has to make a large number of choices in this dystopian world where everyone's in factions and no one really knows why.
[On hold until I finish my Harry Potter fanfiction]