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Post by shiner on Sept 11, 2009 22:08:33 GMT -5
Shiner gave a small sob before she felt a hand on her arm, ripping her away from Tate and shoving her back to her work station. She wiped at her face, taking a deep breath and started back to work. Her hands shook and she bit her lip, making herself not look away. She could hear the younger kids crying and it only upset her more, knowing there was nothing she could do about it right now. They'd have to keep working, no matter what had gone on, or else face some other kind of punishment.
Shiner thought of Tate's words. They have to. But were they? What was taking them so damn long?
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Post by Tate Potter on Sept 11, 2009 22:27:27 GMT -5
Tate let out a sound as she was grabbed and shoved back to her machine. Nike.. she felt tears in her eyes but she was just angry. Mary Ellen Elizabeth Tate Potter was never angry but right now, she'd just seen one of her friends shot. She closed her eyes a moment and let out a slow breath as she looked over the machine and the tools they'd given her. The sheers.. her eyes slid closed for a moment.
Danny forgive me if I'm not here when you make it... she tucked the sheers in her hand and looked towards where Shiner was and the bully that was at her back. She was crying and Tate felt her own tears. Wasn't she stronger than this? She let her head fall slowly as she tried to think of what to do. What could she do?
Nike... she slipped the sheers into her apron and closed her eyes for another moment before she turned back to her loom. She would have to think this threw...
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Post by Milo on Sept 13, 2009 19:40:16 GMT -5
As soon as he heard all of the crying and commotion, Milo had run over to see what had happened and as soon as he arrived he wished he hadn't he got there just in time to see two cronies carrying someone, a girl someone through the doors. At first he thought she was just unconscious (something which wasn't too uncommon here) but when he spotted the puddle of blood on the floor, he knew it was much worse. Just when he'd started to think that they would all get out safe... he should have known better than to get his hopes up. He'd known at the beginning that someone would die, probably a lot of people...probably him or Gwennie or both of them but he'd let himself hope when Sweets escaped.
As much as he had thought about someone dying, he wasn't prepared for it and it was only when one of the remaining goons shoved him roughly in the direction of the machine's and yelled something at him that must have had to do with getting back to work that he realized that he had just been standing there, staring at the puddle of blood for God knows how long. as he walked over to the nearest open station, he felt something trickle down his neck and he started, wondering in a panic if he had hit something when the goon had shoved him. When he touched the wetness with his finger and looked at it, it was just water. He looked up the ceiling to see if there was a drip or something but he couldn't see anything.
He looked down at the loom in front of him and noticed that it was all blurry,and then it hit him. He was crying. Why, he didn't know, after all, the girl they carried out was too big to be Gwennie and it wasn't Shiner or Tate because he'd seen them on his way over. He hadn't even talked to the others since he'd been there but all he could think was that it could have been any of them and whoever it had been chances were that at least some of his friends had just lost a friend and for kids like him friends were as good as family and he knew from experience that there was nothing worse than losing family.
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Post by pupdawkinseitz on Sept 26, 2009 21:06:14 GMT -5
Pup sighed, trying to keep his eyes open as he worked his machine, blinking to view his blurry vision. It was too long, the days were like the seconds of a clock that had stopped ticking away all together. He had lost track of all time. All the days were the smelly dim rooms, the scratchy cots or hard floors they slept on, the muck they ate and the exhausting work.
Pup saw Milo get shoved and winced, but he was too tired to do anything about it. He didn't really know what fighting would do any more. His stomach was empty and gnawing at him with hunger. Clenching his stomach, he couldn't go on, he leaned against his machine for support, slipping to the floor. Not caring who would yell at him. He was too tired to work and that was that. He hated this place and he just wanted it all to be over.
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Thanks Jim!