exactly. You’re already getting better.”
It was just a lucky shot , I think, but I keep silent. I can see how hard Nahan is trying to make a connection, and with my personality, this might be my only chance at friendship,
We spend the remaining daylight hours practicing, stopping only because the sun sets. Nathan tells me that, eventually, I’ll be able to shoot with my eyes closed, but for now, it is better not to attempt that.
“We should do this again tomorrow,” Nathan says. “If you want to, of course.”
“Oh. Yeah. Sure. If it’s not a problem for you.”
“Of course not,” he smiles. We walk back to camp where most people are packing their weapons and getting into small groups, discussing the week. Nathan and I are joined by Smaller Sally and Mike, who walk with their arms around each other. In his free hand, Mike holds a cigarette.
“How are you doing?” Smaller Sally asks.
“Good,” Nathan and I say in unison.
“Good!” She replies with sincere happiness.
“You tired?” Mike asks.
“Me?”
He nods.
“A little,” I admit.
“Yeah, the first days are the worst,” Mike says. “But once you settle into the rhythm of it-”
“It becomes completely natural,” Smaller Sally finishes.
“I was going to say that it becomes syncopated,” Mike says with the first smile I’ve seen him show. “But if the rest of you want to be optimistic and...things like that, go ahead.”
“Oh my god, Mike, you make it sound like optimists are taking over the world and burning all you pessimists at the stake.”
“Look me in the eye and tell me I’m wrong.”
We all laugh. Mike’s eyes sparkle a little when he looks at Smaller Sally, and I can’t help but smile myself.
The conversation continues without a particular direction as the darkness intensifies and the air chills. I stay quiet, occasionally throwing in an um or a uhum , when prompted. Eventually, we say our goodnights and separate to our tents.
I stay awake for several more hours developing all the thoughts that flew through my mind during the conversation, specifically about how different the Rebellion is from Hopetown.
I don’t miss Hopetown. Only two days have passed and all the memories I have of it have already begun to blur into one image, as if time was static there. As if none of it ever mattered and ever will matter. It’s just a blink on reality. Nothing more. Thirteen years of my life, wasted. I wonder if it was better for me, that I barely remember what the world was like before the Blast. Was it harder for my parents? They had lives established before the world was destroyed. Lives that they had worked for years to build. They must have had dreams and goals, and all of it went down the drain with the Blast.
And we were all so afraid. We couldn’t trust the world and we could barely trust ourselves. I was so afraid. I never realized how afraid I was because I had never known anything different. I was afraid of the outside, because I didn’t know what was there. Afraid of the inside, because I did. Afraid of everyone else, because I couldn’t read their eyes. Afraid of my own reflection, because I saw a person so radically different from whom I wanted to be. Afraid to fail. Afraid to succeed. Afraid to die.
And absolutely terrified to live.
Terrified of the only faded future I saw for myself.
Terrified that I would disappear without a trace and nobody would remember me.
Now, I can see the path I want to take. I can see the bright outline of my future.
Now, I’m not afraid that I won’t matter.
And it’ll be alright.
CHAPTER 6
The following weeks fly by quickly. Every day is similar in structure. In the mornings, I help Big Sal make breakfast. After that, I either train with Mike or take more hikes around the woods with Rebekah. After lunch, I am at the mercy of Emily. At the end of the day, Nathan and I train in the Field of the Fallen. I
It was just a lucky shot , I think, but I keep silent. I can see how hard Nahan is trying to make a connection, and with my personality, this might be my only chance at friendship,
We spend the remaining daylight hours practicing, stopping only because the sun sets. Nathan tells me that, eventually, I’ll be able to shoot with my eyes closed, but for now, it is better not to attempt that.
“We should do this again tomorrow,” Nathan says. “If you want to, of course.”
“Oh. Yeah. Sure. If it’s not a problem for you.”
“Of course not,” he smiles. We walk back to camp where most people are packing their weapons and getting into small groups, discussing the week. Nathan and I are joined by Smaller Sally and Mike, who walk with their arms around each other. In his free hand, Mike holds a cigarette.
“How are you doing?” Smaller Sally asks.
“Good,” Nathan and I say in unison.
“Good!” She replies with sincere happiness.
“You tired?” Mike asks.
“Me?”
He nods.
“A little,” I admit.
“Yeah, the first days are the worst,” Mike says. “But once you settle into the rhythm of it-”
“It becomes completely natural,” Smaller Sally finishes.
“I was going to say that it becomes syncopated,” Mike says with the first smile I’ve seen him show. “But if the rest of you want to be optimistic and...things like that, go ahead.”
“Oh my god, Mike, you make it sound like optimists are taking over the world and burning all you pessimists at the stake.”
“Look me in the eye and tell me I’m wrong.”
We all laugh. Mike’s eyes sparkle a little when he looks at Smaller Sally, and I can’t help but smile myself.
The conversation continues without a particular direction as the darkness intensifies and the air chills. I stay quiet, occasionally throwing in an um or a uhum , when prompted. Eventually, we say our goodnights and separate to our tents.
I stay awake for several more hours developing all the thoughts that flew through my mind during the conversation, specifically about how different the Rebellion is from Hopetown.
I don’t miss Hopetown. Only two days have passed and all the memories I have of it have already begun to blur into one image, as if time was static there. As if none of it ever mattered and ever will matter. It’s just a blink on reality. Nothing more. Thirteen years of my life, wasted. I wonder if it was better for me, that I barely remember what the world was like before the Blast. Was it harder for my parents? They had lives established before the world was destroyed. Lives that they had worked for years to build. They must have had dreams and goals, and all of it went down the drain with the Blast.
And we were all so afraid. We couldn’t trust the world and we could barely trust ourselves. I was so afraid. I never realized how afraid I was because I had never known anything different. I was afraid of the outside, because I didn’t know what was there. Afraid of the inside, because I did. Afraid of everyone else, because I couldn’t read their eyes. Afraid of my own reflection, because I saw a person so radically different from whom I wanted to be. Afraid to fail. Afraid to succeed. Afraid to die.
And absolutely terrified to live.
Terrified of the only faded future I saw for myself.
Terrified that I would disappear without a trace and nobody would remember me.
Now, I can see the path I want to take. I can see the bright outline of my future.
Now, I’m not afraid that I won’t matter.
And it’ll be alright.
CHAPTER 6
The following weeks fly by quickly. Every day is similar in structure. In the mornings, I help Big Sal make breakfast. After that, I either train with Mike or take more hikes around the woods with Rebekah. After lunch, I am at the mercy of Emily. At the end of the day, Nathan and I train in the Field of the Fallen. I
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