Singing to the tune of "Two Front Teeth": "All I want for Christmas is an a-a-gent! An a-a-gent! An a-a-gent! All I want for Christmas is an a-a-gent! Oh how happy I would be!"
I also want another LotR 1/24th scale Beasts and Battle Figurines that I couldn't finish collecting when I was little. I can probably take care of that myself though.=-)
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Program 001: Birthday Candles
I’d woken with a jolt early this morning, peacekeepers
beating on my door. I thought we still had one more day, but my parents’ Grace Period to
raise me was over. They had prepared me for much, but not this—how could they?
While a Customized would be thinking about blowing out candles on their
sweet-sixteen, I was at the Judgment Building, trying to decide which of my
parents to feed to the flame. Before I’d be allowed to leave the balcony room above
the Pit, I’d have to choose which of my parents would die for me.
I
dug my nails into the pale skin of my arm, not removing them until they left
deep marks. I couldn’t really feel any pain. It was vague, a distant sting to a
nervous system that no longer belonged to me. My consciousness seemed to float
above my body, but it couldn’t escape, and neither could I. I remembered how I
used to wake screaming when I was a little girl, plagued by guilt over a choice
I hadn’t made yet. Now that that choice was before me, I was too numb to feel
anything.
My
counselor tapped her clipboard with long fingernails. She was sitting somewhere
behind me, reminding me that she was still there—and that I was still wasting her time—every few minutes
when she shifted the order of her crossed legs.
After
a long silence she prodded me yet again, “Fayten? It’s been another hour.”
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