All right, here’s the deal. If I write my side of this story, Brook has to keep up his side of the deal.
That is the only reason why a kickass chick like me is writing a book, okay?
Laugh if you want.
I’d still beat your lame-ass ass blindfolded with both hands tied behind my—
Ugh.
Brook says I need to stop cussing.
Go away, Brook, you’re cramping my style.
Haha, he says I’m breaking immersion.
Ooooops. If you just agreed to go out with me now, Brook, we wouldn’t have this problem, hehehe.
(He just smiled, kissed me on the forehead, and left.)
(Worth.)
(Sort of. Maybe.)
(Ugh.)
Look, I’m just going to get this done quickly, so…yeah, ummm…have a paragraph break.
Sup.
My name is Silvia Thornton, resident sarcastic hottie of Twainside, future girlfriend to Brook, and the hungry devourer and vanquisher of all solid, double-stack hamburgers and seasoned fries.
To just stick with the essentials, my side of this story probably started around six months ago.
I had just gotten off the subway station at dusk, and I was kicking my skateboard through the dim streets of Twainside, probably grinning like a mad fool. That musty, over-packed subway was literally the worst. The new government had just opened up this jail-bar wall that went around the entire city, and, suddenly, everyone from the countryside and their mother was riding up to the capital to try to find work and a better life, myself included. The subways were clogged.
Oh, also, I’m the second oldest of seven kids. My responsible older brother stayed behind to handle the duties on the farm, and the younger ones were too little to be employed. I’m 18, by the way. The next youngest just turned 15, so I was drafted by my parents to go and work in the city.
Sound harsh?
I wasn’t really too concerned. My dad raised me straight, and I got my mom’s silver tongue. Between those two, I’ve never had much of an issue, whether finagling or fighting my way through life. Besides, my mom’s older brother - my uncle - lives here in Twainside, and he already had work lined up for me. As long as I did well in whatever he had for me, I figured I would be all right.
Those subway seats, though, I thought to myself, massaging my backside as I swerved around a young couple. Did the old government actually pay an engineer to design a torture device like that? At least my rear is well-endowed, another courtesy from my curvaceous mother; I can’t say so much for the others on that seven hour train ride.
Most of them were unhealthily thin. Granted, yeah, six months ago when this happened, I was a bit underweight myself, but, at least we had a farm, so food was right at our fingertips, and we weren’t paying through our nose for a bag of flour under the rule of the former government. Everything said and done, we were pretty well-off during the former tyranny.
That’s not to say I wasn’t looking forward to the new government when I came to Twainside. My parents fought over money more than they fought over anything else, and, for all the brawling I do myself, man, I hate hearing other people get at each others’ throats, especially people I love.
As I tore through the streets, I glanced back briefly, my skateboard making a suspicious amount of noise. Sure enough, two kids my age were keeping pace behind me on their own boards: a guy and a girl.
Boyfriend and girlfriend? No…siblings.
Twins, maybe. They both wore smiles similar to mine. Maybe Middle Eastern? She had an adorable pixie cut under a basketball cap, and he sported a dark brown goatee, tons of piercings between the two of them. Their white chucks were matching, and their fashion styles seemed to sprout from a similar theme: faded, near-white denim and lots of those iron-on appliqués. Hard to tell if they were rich enough to afford a sense of fashion - or if their pieces just so happened to match in a fashionable way.
Anyway, I made eye-contact, and they scooted up next to me, one on my left and one on my right. “You’re Silvia!” the girl said. Her voice was higher than I expected and super cute.
“Yeah?” We kept skating, even though that felt awkward.
“I’m Kelsie!” she said, “We know Shrike.”
Ah. Shrike. My mom’s brother. My boss to-be. Kelsie extended her hand, and so did her twin brother. I crossed my arms to shake their hands, wondering for a moment if this was some sort of trap. “How…do you know me?”
“Pictures. We were expecting you. Shrike told us to keep an eye out on the station in case if you got into any trouble. Crime’s not at its lowest, you know, and you got here closer to night. He said you might need some help defending yourself in the case of an accident, but…” I got an eye-over from Kelsie, “I guess that might not be the case.”
Huh.
I wasn’t blaming Shrike for sending the twins - the last time he saw me, I was just a helpless toddler - but I wish he had given me some sort of warning. Random strangers aren’t the easiest to trust. I glanced at the brother. “I didn’t get your name.”
“Jessie, but you can call me Jess.” He winked at me, smiling softly, and I laughed suddenly.
He’s that kinda guy.
“I hope this is all right,” Kelsie continued obliviously, “Shrike was also worried that you might not trust us, but he said this would be better than nothing.”
I nodded, wiping the smirk off my face, and slowed to a stop at an intersection. I think we needed to cross there anyway.
“Nah, it’s fine. Just curious how you two know Shrike.”
Jessie and Kelsie hopped off their boards just as the cross walk sign changed, at which point we all skipped quickly across the intersection on foot towards the training center.
“We work for him. You know what your job is, right?”
I laughed again. “Nope. Not the foggiest idea.” “Ohhh…” They exchanged a side-ways glance that made me feel 100% included.
“Well,” Jess said, “basically, you’re like…our maid?” “You’ll get paid really well, though!” Kelsie quickly interjected, “And I’ll kill anyone if they even think about looking down on you. We’d love to have you hang out with us too, so…you don’t need to f-feel like you have to…be…alone or a-anything.”
She sputtered to a stop and glanced at me with an apologetic face.
“It’s fine,” I replied, unable to bear how cute she looked at that moment, “I figured I would be doing some sort of menial labor. Besides, I’d be pretty impressed if you can give me a task in the city worse than mucking out stalls back at home.” Jess and Kelsie exchanged looks again - they have that kind of ability to communicate without speaking that everyone wishes they had - and let out what seemed to be a sigh of relief. “Cool,” Jess said, “Let’s get you settled in then. Shrike will give you your first tasks from there.”
Break is great, guys.
Write on!
Clove
That is the only reason why a kickass chick like me is writing a book, okay?
Laugh if you want.
I’d still beat your lame-ass ass blindfolded with both hands tied behind my—
Ugh.
Brook says I need to stop cussing.
Go away, Brook, you’re cramping my style.
Haha, he says I’m breaking immersion.
Ooooops. If you just agreed to go out with me now, Brook, we wouldn’t have this problem, hehehe.
(He just smiled, kissed me on the forehead, and left.)
(Worth.)
(Sort of. Maybe.)
(Ugh.)
Look, I’m just going to get this done quickly, so…yeah, ummm…have a paragraph break.
~ ~ ~
Sup.
My name is Silvia Thornton, resident sarcastic hottie of Twainside, future girlfriend to Brook, and the hungry devourer and vanquisher of all solid, double-stack hamburgers and seasoned fries.
To just stick with the essentials, my side of this story probably started around six months ago.
I had just gotten off the subway station at dusk, and I was kicking my skateboard through the dim streets of Twainside, probably grinning like a mad fool. That musty, over-packed subway was literally the worst. The new government had just opened up this jail-bar wall that went around the entire city, and, suddenly, everyone from the countryside and their mother was riding up to the capital to try to find work and a better life, myself included. The subways were clogged.
Oh, also, I’m the second oldest of seven kids. My responsible older brother stayed behind to handle the duties on the farm, and the younger ones were too little to be employed. I’m 18, by the way. The next youngest just turned 15, so I was drafted by my parents to go and work in the city.
Sound harsh?
I wasn’t really too concerned. My dad raised me straight, and I got my mom’s silver tongue. Between those two, I’ve never had much of an issue, whether finagling or fighting my way through life. Besides, my mom’s older brother - my uncle - lives here in Twainside, and he already had work lined up for me. As long as I did well in whatever he had for me, I figured I would be all right.
Those subway seats, though, I thought to myself, massaging my backside as I swerved around a young couple. Did the old government actually pay an engineer to design a torture device like that? At least my rear is well-endowed, another courtesy from my curvaceous mother; I can’t say so much for the others on that seven hour train ride.
Most of them were unhealthily thin. Granted, yeah, six months ago when this happened, I was a bit underweight myself, but, at least we had a farm, so food was right at our fingertips, and we weren’t paying through our nose for a bag of flour under the rule of the former government. Everything said and done, we were pretty well-off during the former tyranny.
That’s not to say I wasn’t looking forward to the new government when I came to Twainside. My parents fought over money more than they fought over anything else, and, for all the brawling I do myself, man, I hate hearing other people get at each others’ throats, especially people I love.
As I tore through the streets, I glanced back briefly, my skateboard making a suspicious amount of noise. Sure enough, two kids my age were keeping pace behind me on their own boards: a guy and a girl.
Boyfriend and girlfriend? No…siblings.
Twins, maybe. They both wore smiles similar to mine. Maybe Middle Eastern? She had an adorable pixie cut under a basketball cap, and he sported a dark brown goatee, tons of piercings between the two of them. Their white chucks were matching, and their fashion styles seemed to sprout from a similar theme: faded, near-white denim and lots of those iron-on appliqués. Hard to tell if they were rich enough to afford a sense of fashion - or if their pieces just so happened to match in a fashionable way.
Anyway, I made eye-contact, and they scooted up next to me, one on my left and one on my right. “You’re Silvia!” the girl said. Her voice was higher than I expected and super cute.
“Yeah?” We kept skating, even though that felt awkward.
“I’m Kelsie!” she said, “We know Shrike.”
Ah. Shrike. My mom’s brother. My boss to-be. Kelsie extended her hand, and so did her twin brother. I crossed my arms to shake their hands, wondering for a moment if this was some sort of trap. “How…do you know me?”
“Pictures. We were expecting you. Shrike told us to keep an eye out on the station in case if you got into any trouble. Crime’s not at its lowest, you know, and you got here closer to night. He said you might need some help defending yourself in the case of an accident, but…” I got an eye-over from Kelsie, “I guess that might not be the case.”
Huh.
I wasn’t blaming Shrike for sending the twins - the last time he saw me, I was just a helpless toddler - but I wish he had given me some sort of warning. Random strangers aren’t the easiest to trust. I glanced at the brother. “I didn’t get your name.”
“Jessie, but you can call me Jess.” He winked at me, smiling softly, and I laughed suddenly.
He’s that kinda guy.
“I hope this is all right,” Kelsie continued obliviously, “Shrike was also worried that you might not trust us, but he said this would be better than nothing.”
I nodded, wiping the smirk off my face, and slowed to a stop at an intersection. I think we needed to cross there anyway.
“Nah, it’s fine. Just curious how you two know Shrike.”
Jessie and Kelsie hopped off their boards just as the cross walk sign changed, at which point we all skipped quickly across the intersection on foot towards the training center.
“We work for him. You know what your job is, right?”
I laughed again. “Nope. Not the foggiest idea.” “Ohhh…” They exchanged a side-ways glance that made me feel 100% included.
“Well,” Jess said, “basically, you’re like…our maid?” “You’ll get paid really well, though!” Kelsie quickly interjected, “And I’ll kill anyone if they even think about looking down on you. We’d love to have you hang out with us too, so…you don’t need to f-feel like you have to…be…alone or a-anything.”
She sputtered to a stop and glanced at me with an apologetic face.
“It’s fine,” I replied, unable to bear how cute she looked at that moment, “I figured I would be doing some sort of menial labor. Besides, I’d be pretty impressed if you can give me a task in the city worse than mucking out stalls back at home.” Jess and Kelsie exchanged looks again - they have that kind of ability to communicate without speaking that everyone wishes they had - and let out what seemed to be a sigh of relief. “Cool,” Jess said, “Let’s get you settled in then. Shrike will give you your first tasks from there.”
~ ~ ~
Break is great, guys.
Write on!
Clove
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