Gen Four- Chapter Four

Dad worked on something during lunch. I couldn't find grandpa, so I downed the granola bar from my packed lunch and called my meal over. My whole body burned with a rage that tickled sweat on the back of my neck. Every vein pulsed with indignance while my stomach protested the thought of anything more than those quick bites inside it. Thus, my lunch break turned into me furiously bolting around the track again and again until my lungs could hardly keep up. Even then I kept going. With each step I imagined Ms. Cranberry's face underneath my foot. The harsh impact of my heel into her stupid mouth spouting lies worked wonders in keeping me from exploding.

The only truth she'd given me was that I had been a bit stupid. Stupid to expect anything of value from her. I wonder if I would have caught her off guard revealing I knew about her and dad's little get-together.

Gen Four- Chapter Three

In order to make up for the crummy Monday, on Tuesday Mr. Mint said we could have classes outside. It meant more effort for him as he had to trudge everything with us and rely more on traditional media like paper and pencils than the computers and stuff we typically used. We both worked with increased vigor though. The serious lack of windows meant being cooped up inside all day most days had us suffering from a lack of vitamin d among the other benefits of being connected to nature. It was why I spent a lot of my time outside when at home.

     "That was a terrible story," I complained, closing my book firmly.
     "Was it actually poorly written, or is it terrible because it has an unfortunate ending?" Mr. Mint probed studiously.
     "Both. I don't like it because it makes me feel sad. It's also badly written because the situation is deliberately set up to make the girl's death inevitable. No real organization would allow such shoddy engineering where a small amount of additional weight would require the pilot to jettison the girl out the airlock. They'd save more money and resources that they're trying to conserve if they use more of those resources to allow a margin of error. Then the flights wouldn't be so risky and catastrophic if something small goes wrong."
     "A fair point," Mr. Mint acknowledged. "Because you had good reasoning, I'll save this reading of 'A Good Man is Hard to Find' for another day."
     "What, is it another depressing story?"
     "Mayhaps," Mr. Mint smirked.
     "Why are you giving me all these harder-to-read dark tales anyway?"
     "Despite your dislike of most literature, you read at an exceptionally high level. These are standard stories for study, and I thought it'd be best to get them out of the way so I don't have to continually throw them at you."
     "I'd rather you actually throw the book at me if it meant I didn't have to read them," I mumbled.

Mr. Mint just laughed.

Gen Four- Chapter Two

Neither of us knew how to react. I knew most people in the building and had formed the basic, pleasant general relationship one has with acquaintances on average at least twenty years older than you. Mr. Sterling though, well, he was essentially a ghost to me. A figure I saw only rarely and who only ever flashed a quick appearance in the corner of my eye before he impossibly darted off. Seriously, maybe he could walk through walls. I'd tried to follow him once or twice, and it was if he'd vanished from reality.

     "Good afternoon, Nutmeg," he greeted quietly and meekly.

I stopped his attempt at walking by by moving in his way. Needing to move down the hallway I blocked, he was trapped between getting to his destination and knowing walking in the opposite direction wouldn't help him.

     "Hey, Mr. Sterling, can I talk to you for a moment?" A bold request on my part, and one I knew he wouldn't accept.

     "Unfortunately, there's something I must take care of. If I could be on my way."

He sighed and rubbed at his forehead when I jumped to halt him once more.

Gen Four- Chapter One

One of the most difficult questions I've ever attempted to answer in my life is one many have pondered...what does it mean to be a good person? Or, likewise, what does it mean to be a bad person? I've known people I believed to be good who turned out to be absolute monsters. There are those who the world shuns as horrible when all I've ever known from them is kindness. Can a lifetime of repentance undo the worst of crimes? Can one terrible action dissolve every honorable act done until then?

I don't have an answer after all this time. Honestly, I don't think it's a question that can be answered. All one can do is take a look at the situation before them and judge to the best of their ability with their heart and mind. Such a conclusion was a long time in the making. It was during the late summer in my tenth year when I first had to ponder that above question, but it's probably best to go back a little before that. I'll start with a certain Friday. A day with a bright sun, lively early summer breeze, and moment after moment of subtle changes to my stagnant life.

The Simplified Color My World Summary...With Pictures!

Gen One

Ethereal is the protagonist of Generation One. She's an albino, a person devoid of her natural coloring due to a genetic defect. She lives a quiet and peaceful though isolated life behind locked doors with a small yard surrounded by large, white walls. Ethereal initially doesn't mind the situation. She's been told she's an important part of a plan for The Company, the organization who has been taking care of her.