Rocks

How can people be so happy when the world is crashing around their ears? They just walk along, laughing and talking with their little buddies. Don't they realize everything that's going on in the outside world? All the war, poverty, even slavery? How can they go about their daily lives as normal, when we could go into nuclear war at any moment?

Everyone is so happy. I'm a generally happy person. But this is happy to the point where it's annoying. I don't usually distance myself from people, but now that I've gotten a little older, people seem to be getting peppier and peppier. Rainbows fly from their mouths, filling my ears, and I want to puke it out, get that cheesy junk out of my system.

I've been looking deeper lately. There must be someone, anyone, who feels the same way I do. There must be someone who knows the severity of the situation we're in. America is skating on very thin ice. We're the strongest ally of many people. England has been having some serious floods, and need generators and necessities. They need water, food, blankets, clothes. They're not as strong as they used to be when they had a big coup d'etat 5 years ago and the monarchy was overthrown. Poor Prince George XII had such great promise as a leader. He was executed in front of the whole world.

They broadcasted it on the big screens in Town Square. I just looked down and swallowed bile as his head was severed from his body.

I shook off the memory, focusing on walking to school. My bookbag felt heavier for some reason.

It must be the book I got from the library before I left for school.

I had stepped onto campus when I saw a group of street urchins jumping one of the preps. They beated and thrashed him, taking his wallet. I froze. The street urchins never acted out. They just stayed in the shadows. The only time they emerged was to beg for money and food and water. They've never jumped anyway before.

Everyone was staring in confusion and horror. The boy that had just been jumped was bleeding all over the flower beds that had just been planted. His ankle was bent at an odd angle. The street urchins began to run away. I looked over and caught eyes with one of them. His face was covered with grime and filth. But his eyes...

They were big, round, doe eyes. They were a deep brown. They reminded me of the coffee my father drinks every morning, reading the news tabloid. I could see bags under his eyes underneath all the dirt. He was running pretty fast for someone who obviously hadn't slept in days.

I blinked in my awe and he was gone. People pushed past me to see what was going on with the injured boy. I just stood there, my bookbag getting heavier and heavier by the moment. What was so heavy?

I set down my bookbag on the concrete and unzipped it. I dug through my binders, notebooks, and papers, and found a rock.

There was a note attached to it.

It's about time you learn who you are, Ariane. -M

A million questions raced through my head. Who is M? How does this M know my name? Who am I? How did they get in there?

I tore off the sticky note and threw the rock to nowhere in particular. I heard a thunk and a feminine voice yells, "Ow!" I looked around and let out a deep breath. Must be some dumb street urchin playing a prank. I saw a hand from the shadows pick up the rock.

Whoever had taken the rock could be preparing to throw it back. But I could hear the faint sound of pen on paper. The figure indeed throw it back, but it landed with a soft scrape in front of my feet. I took the note.

I'll pick you up at midnight. It's for your own good. -M

I crumbled the note and put the rock in my bookbag.

I'm too smart to fall for some street urchin's childish prank.

~

I couldn't pay attention that day in class. I kept thinking about those street urchins, the notes, the hand...

The nails were painted a deep scarlet. Their voice was high and feminine. The handwriting was flowery. Almost like calligraphy. Could M stand for Mia? Mary? M could stand for anything. I didn't want to break curfew to get picked up by a street urchin. But my curiosity began to overcome me.

But I don't know their intention. It would be safer if I locked my door, barred my window and just stay in bed and get some rest.

But then again, what's the fun in that?