So in blocks three and four of my school day, I had tests. Really hard tests over the whole quarter. In third block, algebra two, I’m pretty sure I failed. That was so far beyond painful, it’s hard to even think about it, let alone write about it. /shudders
Block three I had a cumulative review on all the vocabulary words we’ve done this year. That was good. I can do that without difficulty, and I finished early, and it helped me relax after the math test. I’m not concerned about that. However, if I get below an eighty on thst midterm in algebra, I don’t think I’ll pass the class. There’s no way I got an eighty. So. I’m definitely going to fail. That’s, uh… Great, I guess.
I’m going to the fiber faire somewhere in Massachusetts this weekend. I’m going with my big sis, who actually has an account on here, and a blog, although I have no idea what it is called… it has something to do with yarn or sheep or crocheting or… Something, haha. I really don’t know. But we are going, which means my mom will give me money. I will try hard not to spend anymore than necessary. I need to buy some snails for my tanks- a total of six- which would cost about $12.00, I think. Or maybe $6.00, depending on how much the snails are. I’m not sure where I’ll quarantine them, but… Well. I will. After that, though, the money will go in the jar for another day. Or, savings. As soon as I get enough money, I’m going to be starting a savings account at the York County Credit Union, or, YCCU.
I guess I’ll get to the writing prompt now, haha! I found a few I’d like to do this weekend, as I may not have internet, and I think I’ll do the first one now. Here it is!
There she was again, the girl that sent me into a tailspin. There she was again, the girl with her scruffy brown hair and coal smudged cheeks. There she was again, the girl that I loved. The girl from over there. The girl I could never have. The girl from over the fence.
“What are you watching, Jacque?” Marco sneered, shoving my shoulder. I winced, but didn’t move. Sometimes when she’s working she looks up at the sky. The beautiful hues of blue twisted against the curling, soul eating black smoke… Well, on days where the sky was like that, she looked so sad. Those days especially I yearned, more than anything, to cross the fence and hold her in my arms, whisper in her ears what we were doing to cut back on the smog, and how the air was actually 27% cleaner than it had been ten years ago. Whisper all the things that would make her feel so much better. Then I’d tell her how I loved her, from the leaf stuck in the top of her tangled mess of dark hair to the ragged edges of her toenails.
Slowly, I turned away from the window. It wasn’t going to happen… Not today. Today, the sky was clear. Today she’d smile, and her smile would intensity my longing more than her sorrow. I’d spend the rest of the day irritable and snappy, and I’d get my holo drive taken away. Again.
“Nothing, Marco.” I sighed, stealing a quick glance back out the window. The girl was gone.
“You were staring at that messy poor girl again, weren’t you?” Marco smirked. “It’s never gonna happen, Jacque. Never, ever. You know we don’t mix with the likes of them, ” he said distastefully, turning up his nose at the thought of it. “They are the lowest class, brother.” He laughed. “Hey, if you want her that much, I’m sure any girl over there would be eager to come please your desires for a few bucks.” Marco snorted.
“What’s wrong with you?” I growled my shoulders stiffening, my rage snapping like a whip in the wind. “I would never- I- how could you even-”
“I’m just kidding, little brother!” Marco chuckled. “You’re face, it’s so red.”
“It wasn’t a funny joke,” I growled, rolling my shoulders, trying to loosen the tension coiled up in their muscles. “Why must you torment me so, Marco?”
“Because, brother, I have good news…. News that will make you a very happy guy.” He stood up and crossed his arms with a cocky smile.
“Well? Aren’t you going to tell me?” I yawned. His ‘good news’ was never anything I wanted to hear. Usually his news was that we were moving, or that some person had died, and we’d moved up a step on the ladder of economic riches. When one family succeeds another- when that family’s patriarch dies- the family below them is awarded their money. All of it. Their widows are given to other families, and their children to the System, a horrible ravenous beast that destroys everything it lays it’s dirty paws on. I shuddered, glancing quickly out the window. She was back.
“First, you gotta beg,” Marco smirked, lighting a cig-stick. They are what has evolved from cigarettes. The whole sensation of smoking the thing is simulated. You’re not really smoking anything. In reality, you’re chewing on an expensive computer.
“I’m not begging.” I walked back over to the widow and barely managed to stifle a gasp of surprise. She- the girl- was staring straight at me!
Everyday I watch him, the boy on the other side of the fence. I wonder what he has for problems, or if he ever gets lonely, or if he watches me, too. Whenever I look up, he’s at the window… But I can’t see his eyes, or his face, so I can never tell…
But today… Today when I looked up, I’m sure he was looking down at me. I was so scared… But… I wanted him to know I was alive, and I was a person, too. So really, it was more in defiance of the law- us peasants aren’t allowed to interact with the rich folks- that I raised my hand to the sky and clenched it in a fist, twisted it, and slowly lowered it to my chest. Over here… Well, I was taunting him. It was a dirty thing to do, and if my mother knew, she’d definitely roll over in her grave. More importantly, if he told the guards on me, I’d be dead. That… Would not be ideal. Still, I watched and waited for his response.
First, he freaked out. He yelled and pointed and someone else came over to the glass. I repeated the gesture. The second man, who looked a little older, started laughing. Then the first one did, too. When he got enough control of himself to breath again, he pushed open his window and released something. I have no idea what it was. The object glided through the air, crossing the hundred feet between us and hovering by my face. Slowly, I reached out and took the device in my hands. I recognized it now. It was the newest model of transport devices for getting groceries and things. I didn’t understand why he’d sent it to me… And then the screen blinked. A small paper slid through a tiny slit on the front of the device. It read, “You’ve never responded before, but I’m always watching. My favorite part of the day is when you come to the fence to work. This may seem weird to you, and I wouldn’t hold it against you if you didn’t respond, but I’m dying to know. What is your name?”
Slowly, I looked up at the pent house. The boy raised his fist, slowly uncurling the fingers. He waved each one in turn, then lifted his other fist and did the same. I gasped, my face flushing with heat. That sign… The last time I’d seen that sign a as when papa was on his deathbed and we’d just been informed that we were being put in the system, because none of our relatives, nor momma’s new husband, wanted us. My momma had made that sign to me before lunging at the System Envoy who’d come to collect us and her. She’d stabbed him through the heart, and told us to run. The Envoy’s guards had vaporized her. The sign, though… It stands for hope, courage and love. Maybe it doesn’t mean the same thing there, or maybe it isn’t such a big deal to him as it is to be.
I flipped up the side of the carrier and typed in very carefully; K-I-R-A P-R-A-Y.