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First Post

by Bluefeather

Bluefeather So, this is part of a book i'm writing with my friends. This is my first post. Comment below if I should keep writing this in a series because I really don't know. The character is under the post. (Side note: This is a future Sci-Fi book.) :)
New Years. You probably think about parties and families crowded around TV screens. Not now; not anymore. After Christmas, everyone’s minds turn and go, “This is it! The year the world is going to end!” Drives people crazy.

Glass crunched under my boots and stone’s rattled. Clouds roared in warning. Guess I had to go home.

The door of the apartment shut closed after me and I threw my shoes into a corner. I opened the curtains; hoping to let some light in. No use. 3:16 and it was stormy like it was gonna rain. Eh, it probably was. Not to mention it was always like this.

I plopped down in the desk chair and glanced at the homework Mom left me. More Algebra. I thought we finished with that yesterday.

I was trying to calculate what y would be if x = -178 times y divided by 3 when my Mom crept in.

“How was work?” I asked; getting my hopes up. Mom was the secretary for the mayor. Yeah, hard to find a good job.

“Work . . . it-it was. Fine.” Mom heaved a sigh and brushed a hand through her hair. “How's the homework coming along?”

I showed her the page.

“Need help?”

“Nah, I can do it.”

“Ember . . .” My Mom started. “I know how hard this is for you.”

I watched cautiously as Mom sat down on the edge of her bed.

“Ever since the government made us pay to go to school . . . listen, I just want you to know that everything will work out.”

I stared at her. Too bad everything was not working out. We hardly had enough money to even keep the apartment. The uptowners owned all the money.

Just walk past all the glass coated sidewalks and the peeling buildings, then you’ll reach the most beautiful gate in the world. Past that, the most wonderful city lives. That’s where the uptowners live. Or, another word, the rich.

All us downtowners hate em. They don’t even come down for a visit. No clean up. Nothing.

“Thanks, Mom.”

“No problem, Em.” She sighed.

“I’m gonna go find some food.” I nodded and pulled on my dirty shoes.

“Okay, be careful.” She handed me one dollar.

Soon I was back out on the streets, a dagger in hand.

This is how we had to get food. There was no fancy store for the downtowners; and the uptowners only brought few barrels of food once every month. Rough? Its how we live.

Well, maybe it isn't how I live.

I spotted a wild chicken out in the park. I stepped over the mud spots and eyed it. My knees almost buckled and I took one deep breath. Did it every time.

A gunshot startled me and I fell backwards into the squishy mud.

“It’s mine, PUNK.” A woman sneered and grabbed the limp chicken.

It’s dead eyes rolled in it’s head. I gulped.

Standing up, I watched the woman walk away and looked back at the park. No more animals. It was silent.

I peeled bark off a tree. Some parts were edible.

I made my way to the small corner store for some food.

I found one water bottle; a bag of chips; and a banana.

Another perfect day with the Kukan’s!

Ember Kukan
Female; age 14
Dark brown hair with highlights; wavy and short.
She has brown eyes; almost black.
She is skinny and pale; and not so smart because she thinks differently. She also is an expert on robotics.
Job: Inventor.
Her left hand is cyborg (I should probably add that she’s left-handed) and so is her heart; though only the aorta.
Her clothes differ every day but she always wears a black hoodie, color changing earrings, and a necklace with a small container. Inside it, there is a small screw.
(Character belongs to @Bluefeather )
TooBlue12 likes this.