Web Design class felt empty and flat without Samhain to playfully harass me as I tried to make all of my assignments about the fictional chicken religion. Rhonda Cheezus, Savior of the Chickens, didn’t seem half as funny without Samhain playing as Angelina Turkey persuading the masses to be vegetarians. Last time I’d been in this room, Samhain and I had been hiding in the back, going over the medical papers the researchers had intended for her parents to see and trying to figure out an escape plan that required the least amount of planning. But now, a few weeks later, I was all alone trying to distract myself with writing as I’d completed enough assignments to get below the teacher’s radar for this chapter.

“Okay, Rena, let’s see what you got today.” Opening up a new post, my fingers hesitated over the keyboard, my fingerprints from a few weeks ago still visible. Did the girl that I was back then- for she felt like someone else from a distant dream far enough ago to be blurry and vague- know that her plans would succeed, if in a twisted sense? Did she know that she’d end up shedding blood like she’d vowed not to all alone in a bed half a year ago?

The girl who usually sat to my left, a slender petite that looked like- what were they calling them now on the news? otherlings?- had finally returned to class today, still somewhere in the beginning of Chapter Two that half of the class was already finished with. She wasn’t an otherling, of course, seeing as all of them had been recalled to whatever exotically-named place they’d come from a long time ago due to whatever war they were created for ending. Foreign wars were never my thing, and staying away from politics helped keep the little friends I had left.


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