35
edits
Lin xxx
Joined 25 March 2007
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<b>Thoughtcrime</b>
She took the milk out of the refrigerator and spilled the last of it into her cereal. She knew the family didn’t have any more in the back, but she didn’t care. The rest of them weren’t up yet, and so the rest of the milk was hers. Not that she liked it, anyway.
She thought it might have been around the end of middle school, but that couldn’t have been right. Children much younger than that were just as uninterested. It was like an epidemic of silence. She knew that she was the only one to still embrace a breezy spring day with open arms.
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The more I stay in here,
<i>Disappeared,</i> her mind used to venture, <i>what do they do with all the people they have disappeared?</i> It hadn’t been so long since her uncle Gil had vanished, and she knew it happened often but was never, ever talked about. It was Uncle Gil who had given her the With_Teeth files, her first taste in rebellious music. He said, “You’re growing up and thinking for yourself, girl, I’m proud of you. Here, I want you to hear something.” He took her hand and led her to the attic, where an ancient looking computer sat between columns of even older compact discs. He sifted through the column on the left, pulling out a small disc in a dark blue case. It was the first time a song ever spoke to her.
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She spent last period finishing her life-giving watermelon slices. There was nothing more she wanted than to move to New Zealand, where there is no totalitarian theocracy or thoughtcrime or anything that might get her killed.
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