Post by Cascadia on Oct 2, 2007 16:18:57 GMT -5
Chapter Four
I sat upright, flinging my cat across the room from where he'd been perched on my chest. Sucking in deep breaths, I coughed, switching from my wheezing fit to trying to drain the room of all it's oxygen. For a few moments I breathed deeply, trying to calm my heart from pounding against my ribcage so painfully. Shaking my head, I groggily lay back down, my head hitting the pillow. My cat climbed back up, laying next to me instead, obviously having learned better than laying on me. I shifted my arm so my hand rest on his head, petting him absent-mindedly.
The sun shone through my curtains, normal colour and brightness. I frowned, remembering the unnatural glow in my dream, how the sky had poured over it's surface like tar, metallic black and silver colours shining off the dancing rainbows. And the crystals...I shuddered under my blankets, suddenly feeling cold. I scratched Zoro's head, watching stars explode behind my eyelids. Unwanted images of death flickered though my thoughts, and I felt tears rise. Zoro purred in response, his furry body vibrating against my blankets. I smiled lightly, raising my other arm above my head, stretching, and let my dream fade.
I kissed the top of his head before tossing the blankets back, swinging my legs over the edge of my bed. Zoro raised his head from under part of the blankets, and I smiled. His name wasn't random, as my parents had thought. I'd watched the ancient movies at my friend's Uncle's and Zoro was one of his favourites. He'd named my cat when I got it, because the black and white fur positioned on his face perfectly resembled a mask.
Zoro stared up at me, and I remembered why I loved cats so much. His green eyes held an intelligence even some humans couldn't possibly ever posses, even after years of education. I smiled at him and stood before my dresser, pulling out drawers and grabbing a shirt and bra, my pants were already laying on the floor.
My wardrobe was mainly black, so I didn't need to worry about matching anything. I was never girly enough to want to accessorize everything down to the colour of my panties. I snickered, If I wore panties, I thought before I slipped straight into my pants. I hooked the clasp of my bra and went to my mirror, holding my hairbrush and two hair ties. I quickly brushed out the tangles from sleep, and parted it in the middle, pulling my long blonde hair into twotails.
I wasn't sure why they were called that, but it's what I'd been taught. And if there was anything you learned, it was to not question anything, though I'd never been one to listen to my teachings. I flipped my head, the two sections of hair bouncing behind me. Frowning at my reflection, I turned and grabbed my shirt when I heard rapping on my window. I smiled instantly, and ran to slide it open. Sticking my head out part way, I looked into the tree that grew beside my house.
"Hang on," I called out and pulled my head back in the window, giving him more then just a glance at my underclothed status. I smiled to myself while I pulled the shirt over my head, poking my arms through the sleeves and then grabbed socks and pulled my sneakers on. Opening my window all the way, I slid my legs out, stepping out onto the small overhang of roof, and ran off the edge, ignoring the long drop to the ground. I grabbed the tree branch that hung over the roof, and hoisted myself up, crawling the length of it toward the thick trunk. I used to worry about the branch breaking, I wasn't afraid of heights, but wary of the result of falling two stories to the unyielding ground. That was before I learned it wasn't a tree, but a fake simulation of one.
The simubark felt real, rough to the touch. And the simuleaves that 'grew' from the branches were leathery and thin, but they didn't rip like real leaves did. They were just decoration, reminders of what nature used to look like. Just like the grass on our lawn. Fake. As everything growing was. Bushes, trees, flowers, they were just pretty.
Supposedly, in Oldie days, they supplied oxygen, but that was just a rumour. And it's not like it mattered now, the simutree was good for more then just decoration, it was a permanent ladder to my window, an escape from the house whenever I wanted to get out without my parents knowing. Just about every kid had one, all the yards were set up generally the same. A few bushes, a full lawn of simugrass, and a tree beside the second largest bedroom.
I smiled at him, his face obscured by simuleaves. I pushed the smaller branches out of the way, grinning impishly. He returned my smile and I sat on the branch, one leg dangling on either side, kicking through the air slowly. His feet were pulled up on the branch in a crouching position.
"So what damage are we causing today ?" I asked him tossing my hair out of my face. His grin widened, and he shook his head.
"Always looking for trouble," he commented, and I gave him an innocent face, doing my best to hold it there before I broke into giggles. He slid backwards on the branch, lowering himself downwards, and I followed suit. A few branches later, I got to the lowest and looked down at him. He held his arms up, and I reached down for his shoulders, sliding off the branch carefully. He set me down easily, and I smiled. It routine by now, he'd helped me out so many times my parents didn't even worry about me "shimmying down the tree to run wild with some boy," as was the lecture I'd received the first time they caught me.
We walked down the pathway, looking up at the simusky. My smile faded, as I recalled the image of it melting away to nothing, dripping away into space. It was silver, not blue. I remembered as I walked along in silence. But it's made of silver stuff, the simu material is silver. It's just programmed blue, like the grass is green. I tilted my head back, wondering why they even bothered make it blue. Why not just silver ? Wouldn't it save time ? Programming all that sky to be blue, when they could just leave it standard colour.
A sharp pain stabbed my torso, my chest throbbing. I grunted, taking a step back, hands pressed to myself, trying to rid the aching feeling.
"What the Trist are you doing ?" I heard in front of me, the voice barely hiding his laughter. I blinked a few times, shocked, my mouth hanging open slightly. I looked up at the pole I'd walked into, reading the curfew sign. The signs were merely a reminder, as ample time was given to teens via link to get to their residencies before the Watchers went out.
"Ow," I stuttered, not appreciating the bubbling laughter from my friend. I glared past the pole at him, "Very funny." He just shook his head, still laughing. "You could have said something," I snapped before walking around the pole and past him.
"I didn't think you'd really walk into it, where were your thoughts ?" He asked, finally calming down to a mere smirk at my expense. My face got hot and I turned away from him, knowing my cheeks were flushing. I didn't know any other girl my age who turned red, or even pink, unless the Holders gave us a snow day.
"My thoughts were...on a dream," I confessed reluctantly. This caught his attention. He glanced at me from the corner of his eye, but I refused to face him yet. My cheeks were still warm, and I didn't want him to mock the colour there. He waited for me to go on, but I hesitated. Dreaming wasn't encouraged. It was just random collective thoughts and memories from the day that were broken down and resorted through your subconscious and into your long term memory. The process of being resorted resulted in dreaming, because that usually took place while you were asleep. That's what they'd taught everyone in class anyway.
But when did I happen to see the sky melting, that I might need to remember it later ? I thought to myself, still stalling for time. He was getting impatient, I could see that. Even for being two years older than me, he had very little self-control when it came to patience. Another thing they teach us, I noticed. I stopped walking, suddenly feeling uncomfortable, without really knowing why. He finally gave in, turning to face me on the path.
"What's wrong ?" His eyes studied my face, and I scraped my mind for an answer. I didn't know exactly what was wrong, there was no word for it. None that I'd been taught anyway. You'd think they'd give us a better vocabulary, I thought exasperated.
"I feel...watched." I said carefully. "Like someone is listening to me, and I don't want to be heard." I glanced down, tugging at one end of my hairtail. He nodded, a serious look on his face. He turned a different direction and nodded his head, indicating for me to follow. I managed a small smile, knowing where we were headed. The one place I actually felt not....watched. He walked beside me in silence, now more then just comfortable, but needed. His hand slipped into mine, and I felt my face grow warm again.
He didn't seem to notice now, his thoughts probably on getting to his Uncle's, where we usually talked about abstract things like dreams. Usually just my dreams, I thought with dismay. He didn't have that many, not like mine. Which made me more than uncomfortable, almost pushing me to wondering if I did belong in Trist. I shuddered, and I felt his grip tighten on my hand, which brought back more details from my dream.
I glanced at him, realizing it was him that had been in my dream and instantly the warmness in my face grew a thousand times hotter. Maybe I'll skip that part of the dream, I told myself still trying to hide my colour. Now I seriously considered the state of my mind. A trip to Trist might do me good....or they could refuse to release me. I felt my stomach tighten and grimaced. I forgot to eat again. Sighing quietly to myself, I decided I'd ask for food once we got to his Uncle's place.
I sat upright, flinging my cat across the room from where he'd been perched on my chest. Sucking in deep breaths, I coughed, switching from my wheezing fit to trying to drain the room of all it's oxygen. For a few moments I breathed deeply, trying to calm my heart from pounding against my ribcage so painfully. Shaking my head, I groggily lay back down, my head hitting the pillow. My cat climbed back up, laying next to me instead, obviously having learned better than laying on me. I shifted my arm so my hand rest on his head, petting him absent-mindedly.
The sun shone through my curtains, normal colour and brightness. I frowned, remembering the unnatural glow in my dream, how the sky had poured over it's surface like tar, metallic black and silver colours shining off the dancing rainbows. And the crystals...I shuddered under my blankets, suddenly feeling cold. I scratched Zoro's head, watching stars explode behind my eyelids. Unwanted images of death flickered though my thoughts, and I felt tears rise. Zoro purred in response, his furry body vibrating against my blankets. I smiled lightly, raising my other arm above my head, stretching, and let my dream fade.
I kissed the top of his head before tossing the blankets back, swinging my legs over the edge of my bed. Zoro raised his head from under part of the blankets, and I smiled. His name wasn't random, as my parents had thought. I'd watched the ancient movies at my friend's Uncle's and Zoro was one of his favourites. He'd named my cat when I got it, because the black and white fur positioned on his face perfectly resembled a mask.
Zoro stared up at me, and I remembered why I loved cats so much. His green eyes held an intelligence even some humans couldn't possibly ever posses, even after years of education. I smiled at him and stood before my dresser, pulling out drawers and grabbing a shirt and bra, my pants were already laying on the floor.
My wardrobe was mainly black, so I didn't need to worry about matching anything. I was never girly enough to want to accessorize everything down to the colour of my panties. I snickered, If I wore panties, I thought before I slipped straight into my pants. I hooked the clasp of my bra and went to my mirror, holding my hairbrush and two hair ties. I quickly brushed out the tangles from sleep, and parted it in the middle, pulling my long blonde hair into twotails.
I wasn't sure why they were called that, but it's what I'd been taught. And if there was anything you learned, it was to not question anything, though I'd never been one to listen to my teachings. I flipped my head, the two sections of hair bouncing behind me. Frowning at my reflection, I turned and grabbed my shirt when I heard rapping on my window. I smiled instantly, and ran to slide it open. Sticking my head out part way, I looked into the tree that grew beside my house.
"Hang on," I called out and pulled my head back in the window, giving him more then just a glance at my underclothed status. I smiled to myself while I pulled the shirt over my head, poking my arms through the sleeves and then grabbed socks and pulled my sneakers on. Opening my window all the way, I slid my legs out, stepping out onto the small overhang of roof, and ran off the edge, ignoring the long drop to the ground. I grabbed the tree branch that hung over the roof, and hoisted myself up, crawling the length of it toward the thick trunk. I used to worry about the branch breaking, I wasn't afraid of heights, but wary of the result of falling two stories to the unyielding ground. That was before I learned it wasn't a tree, but a fake simulation of one.
The simubark felt real, rough to the touch. And the simuleaves that 'grew' from the branches were leathery and thin, but they didn't rip like real leaves did. They were just decoration, reminders of what nature used to look like. Just like the grass on our lawn. Fake. As everything growing was. Bushes, trees, flowers, they were just pretty.
Supposedly, in Oldie days, they supplied oxygen, but that was just a rumour. And it's not like it mattered now, the simutree was good for more then just decoration, it was a permanent ladder to my window, an escape from the house whenever I wanted to get out without my parents knowing. Just about every kid had one, all the yards were set up generally the same. A few bushes, a full lawn of simugrass, and a tree beside the second largest bedroom.
I smiled at him, his face obscured by simuleaves. I pushed the smaller branches out of the way, grinning impishly. He returned my smile and I sat on the branch, one leg dangling on either side, kicking through the air slowly. His feet were pulled up on the branch in a crouching position.
"So what damage are we causing today ?" I asked him tossing my hair out of my face. His grin widened, and he shook his head.
"Always looking for trouble," he commented, and I gave him an innocent face, doing my best to hold it there before I broke into giggles. He slid backwards on the branch, lowering himself downwards, and I followed suit. A few branches later, I got to the lowest and looked down at him. He held his arms up, and I reached down for his shoulders, sliding off the branch carefully. He set me down easily, and I smiled. It routine by now, he'd helped me out so many times my parents didn't even worry about me "shimmying down the tree to run wild with some boy," as was the lecture I'd received the first time they caught me.
We walked down the pathway, looking up at the simusky. My smile faded, as I recalled the image of it melting away to nothing, dripping away into space. It was silver, not blue. I remembered as I walked along in silence. But it's made of silver stuff, the simu material is silver. It's just programmed blue, like the grass is green. I tilted my head back, wondering why they even bothered make it blue. Why not just silver ? Wouldn't it save time ? Programming all that sky to be blue, when they could just leave it standard colour.
A sharp pain stabbed my torso, my chest throbbing. I grunted, taking a step back, hands pressed to myself, trying to rid the aching feeling.
"What the Trist are you doing ?" I heard in front of me, the voice barely hiding his laughter. I blinked a few times, shocked, my mouth hanging open slightly. I looked up at the pole I'd walked into, reading the curfew sign. The signs were merely a reminder, as ample time was given to teens via link to get to their residencies before the Watchers went out.
"Ow," I stuttered, not appreciating the bubbling laughter from my friend. I glared past the pole at him, "Very funny." He just shook his head, still laughing. "You could have said something," I snapped before walking around the pole and past him.
"I didn't think you'd really walk into it, where were your thoughts ?" He asked, finally calming down to a mere smirk at my expense. My face got hot and I turned away from him, knowing my cheeks were flushing. I didn't know any other girl my age who turned red, or even pink, unless the Holders gave us a snow day.
"My thoughts were...on a dream," I confessed reluctantly. This caught his attention. He glanced at me from the corner of his eye, but I refused to face him yet. My cheeks were still warm, and I didn't want him to mock the colour there. He waited for me to go on, but I hesitated. Dreaming wasn't encouraged. It was just random collective thoughts and memories from the day that were broken down and resorted through your subconscious and into your long term memory. The process of being resorted resulted in dreaming, because that usually took place while you were asleep. That's what they'd taught everyone in class anyway.
But when did I happen to see the sky melting, that I might need to remember it later ? I thought to myself, still stalling for time. He was getting impatient, I could see that. Even for being two years older than me, he had very little self-control when it came to patience. Another thing they teach us, I noticed. I stopped walking, suddenly feeling uncomfortable, without really knowing why. He finally gave in, turning to face me on the path.
"What's wrong ?" His eyes studied my face, and I scraped my mind for an answer. I didn't know exactly what was wrong, there was no word for it. None that I'd been taught anyway. You'd think they'd give us a better vocabulary, I thought exasperated.
"I feel...watched." I said carefully. "Like someone is listening to me, and I don't want to be heard." I glanced down, tugging at one end of my hairtail. He nodded, a serious look on his face. He turned a different direction and nodded his head, indicating for me to follow. I managed a small smile, knowing where we were headed. The one place I actually felt not....watched. He walked beside me in silence, now more then just comfortable, but needed. His hand slipped into mine, and I felt my face grow warm again.
He didn't seem to notice now, his thoughts probably on getting to his Uncle's, where we usually talked about abstract things like dreams. Usually just my dreams, I thought with dismay. He didn't have that many, not like mine. Which made me more than uncomfortable, almost pushing me to wondering if I did belong in Trist. I shuddered, and I felt his grip tighten on my hand, which brought back more details from my dream.
I glanced at him, realizing it was him that had been in my dream and instantly the warmness in my face grew a thousand times hotter. Maybe I'll skip that part of the dream, I told myself still trying to hide my colour. Now I seriously considered the state of my mind. A trip to Trist might do me good....or they could refuse to release me. I felt my stomach tighten and grimaced. I forgot to eat again. Sighing quietly to myself, I decided I'd ask for food once we got to his Uncle's place.