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Post by Ranulph Xaque Meszoly on Sept 12, 2012 20:11:59 GMT -8
[atrb=style, width: 450px; background-image: url(http://i878.photobucket.com/albums/ab347/paigeyin/Ranulph/Template_BG-2.jpg); border: #000040 ridge 8px;][bg=000000]
[style=font-family: Arial; font-size: 20pt; font-style: italic; color: #000000; text-shadow: 2px 2px 1px #008080; text-align: left; border-bottom: 1px dashed #000000; width: 350px; line-height: 16px; margin-left: 30px; ] If we're always guided by other people's thoughts,
what's the point in having our own? [/style][style=width: 400px; height: 300px; float: center; overflow: auto; text-align: justify; background: #FFFFFF;] Life just like how every other day is, wakes up way before sunrise, goes out to milk their cow for mom to warm up with eyes barely open, eats a quick breakfast with his little family of four. Breakfast time is the only time when everyone can sit together and chat as they enjoy what little food they could get. After the war, this moment of peace is actually feeling welcome to in the simple house of District 7.
Yet, home doesn't quite feel the same after the uprising, things goes back to normal now, yes, but there are lot more different then how it has been. Maybe it is the lack of hope to have a new life away from the control of the capitol, maybe now they have one less people sitting in the room adding his strong opinions to the rest, Ranulph couldn't help feeling the presence of despair lingering in the chilly morning air.
He could still be around looking at how we are doing, the dark-haired boy tear the piece of hard bread and dipped it into his mug of milk, Like this, it will soften the bread, and adding flavor to the tasteless dough, now try it, he remembered how his dad used to teach him this when he was young. Putting the milk-soaked bread into his mouth, it taste the same every time, a little creamy, a little salty, the dry dough feels more edible with some liquid in it. They are lucky they saved Maisy, if she too was killed in the war, the Meszolies really left nothing to survive with.
His father, 43 years old, was killed. He was part of the rebel, caught in action, and shot right through the head. It was an immediate death, he should not feel much pain.
But the pain were left burning a hole in his heart. He, among two other sons and a daughter in this family, spent most time with his father. He viewed the old man as a hero, a brave man. Yet see where bravery got him, to six feet under the ground he went.
"You guys should get going," said mom who was wiping her hand on the darkened apron, got ready to send them off the door. To the wood his brother and sister go, to the school he goes. Just a little more that a year, that short 14 months away and Ranulph will be joining them out there full time, cutting down trees for woods.
Three of them doesn't say much on the trip. Ranulph isn't close with his oldest brother. 7 years apart, the two of them have so big a generation gap that they have almost nothing in common. And while his sister and him talks every now and then, common topics seems to avoid them this morning. Maybe it is the dread for tonight's mandatory program. Everyone learns enough to know that no good news would come from from these capitol announcement. So in silence the three walks, until they reached a junction where they part.
"Alright, I will see you later then," nodding to both his older siblings, the young boy gave a quick waved awkwardly, adjusted the bag strap on his shoulder and there he jogged down the street to town alone. School are next to useless in District 7, all that you learn are about lumber, woods and more about what woods can be make of. They are supposed to be useful for their future, only the joke is, their future is nothing but stuck here in the district, waiting for death.
School starts right on 7am, those who are late will be punish with detention of 14 extra working hours in the woods for that week. Which means extra 2 hours of work per day added to your normal 4, you get to stay with everyone hacking those fucking trees until off hours at 8pm. And if you want dinner, lets stay till 9pm, everyone will be very grateful to you putting in your extra effort.
So far, Ranulph avoided the punishments throughout the last year. He used to get detention a lot, usually late, sometimes for saying the wrong things at the wrong time and got caught by the peacekeepers. But comparing to those people who been whipped, he guessed the students were having an easy way out.
Thanks to his mom, Ranulph is early today. Heading to the almost empty classroom, half the class were already there, waiting for another boring day to start. The dark-haired boy picked a seat in the middle, carefully keeping on low radar. He just has this feeling that bad things might happen today.
Notes: "Ranulph's SPEECH" Ranulph's THOUGHTS NPC'S SPEECH
Mood: Gloomy Outfit: CLICK Muse: Random sound Note: --- Word Count: 790 words Quote: Oscar Wilde
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