Misfits

Part 1

A hand covers my mouth and I jerk awake. A figure is looming over me, but its so dark I can't see who it is. I look around, frantically, wiggling, trying to escape. The thing applies pressure to my mouth and it becomes difficult to breath, so I stop struggling. It moves closer to me, and as my eyes adjust to the darkness I can make out its telling me to be quiet. It pulls me up and climbs off my bed and over to the window. I follow it, unsure of what to do.
It slides the window open and looks out. "Jump," it whispers, and from the sound of it its a girl.
"What?!" I exclaim, and her hand covers my mouth once more. She holds a finger to her mouth, telling me to be quieter, and whispers again "Jump."
"Why?!" I whisper shout at her.
"Trust me, I'm one of you. Now please, we haven't much time. Trust me, trust us, and jump."
"What do you mean 'one of you'?! How much time do we have?! I am not jumping out of a second story window!"
"Please?" She pleads with me. "Please, I'll explain everything once we get you safely back to Hole. Now please, jump." I looked out the window, but didn't see anything that would catch me and/or break my fall. I looked back at the girl. "Come on, hurry up. Move!" She grabbed my arm and pulled me closer to the window, but I am stubborn and would not move any closer. "No! I am not dying by jumping out of a window!"
Suddenly, the sound of helicopters filled the quiet night air. Her grip tightens on my arm. "Uh oh," I heard her whisper. "We're too late."

Sunlight floods into the room and I cover my head with the pillow. I hate getting up in the mornings. I wish I could sleep all day, never get up, never leave the bed, never show my face around town. But I have to, or else Aunty will look bad.
I drag my lazy butt out of bed and stretch. The kitchen floor is cold, but I put up with it as I stick bread in the toaster for Aunty. I hate keeping up appearances. I hate how the oldest kids can't eat breakfast, but they have to get up early to make breakfast for their family. I hate that I'm an only child living with my old aunt.
The toast pops and I grab it, forgetting its hot, and drop it on the plate. I butter it, just like Aunty likes, and get the orange juice container out of the fridge.
I fill a cup with orange juice and take the toast and juice to Aunty's room.
"Aunty," I call to her as I push open her bedroom door with my shoulder. "Aunty, breakfast's done."
She sits up in bed and I hand her the plate and set the cup down on her night stand. "Thank you, sweety." She smiles and takes a bite of toast. She chews, then makes a face as she swallows. "Too much butter. What, are you trying to give me a heart attack?" I shook my head. "No, I barely put any on there!" "Well next time, add less." "I like my toast with lots of butter." "Well, this isn't your toast, its mine. Now go and do your chores for the day." She dismisses me with a wave of her hand.
I dress in my ugly/generic/itchy dress I wear all the time. Its cream, long sleeves, high neck, and down to my ankles. Every other girl in town has one just like it. We all have to wear matching clothes.
I pull my ugly, long, dark brown, curly hair into a tight bun, like every other girl wears her hair. I slip into my semi comfortable shoes, grab my jean jacket and beige purse and head out the door.

I stand in line at the training post. Our town owners don't believe in money. They believe in trading equal things for others. Honestly, I've never even seen money, only read about it in history books. Or town owners are way different then the old ways. People back then were unique, individual, and rebellious. We are taught that those things are bad, but sometimes I'm not sure. I often dream about being in a place that everyone looks and acts differently than the rest. But, sadly I'll never know. Our town has an unwritten rule that if younger kids act out their elders are shamed, and Aunty would never be able to look or talk to me again if I shamed her in front of the whole town.
"Next!" The trading post guy called. I stepped up and showed him a few leftover carrots we had from the garden. He examined them all over, then nodded his head. "Good, next!" I walked past him into the market. The town owners hire people to make sure things we trade are worthy of being traded at the market. If its not good enough, you can't come in until you bring something satisfying.
I automatically went to the clothing area. I scanned over the dresses people were trying on, all the same basic cream color with high neck collars and long sleeves. They were fantasizing over how they looked, even though they all looked the same. Next are the people looking at the jeans and jean jackets. Both boys and girls were looking in this area, girls at jean jackets and boys at both. They were trying them on and modelling them for their friends. I always come here first because I find their stupidity and love for blandness amusing. It makes me almost smile every time I see that, and it makes me forget how different I am. How much I don't fit in. But then I come back to reality and remember I need to get stuff for Aunty, and how I look, and I move along and forget about the people and clothes.
I go to the food section and head to the dairy part of it. In the dairy section is a stable with a cow in side. There's always some one in there milking a cow (they switch the cows out every so often). There's a fence blocking off the entrance of the stable with a shelf on it. Once the milkers fill a glass pint, they put it on the shelf, and customers just walk by and grab it. Its rather descusting to me, but nobody else seems to notice or care. Just another thing to make me stand out.
I make sure to avert my eyes as I walk by, walking quickly and trying not to drop the glass container. I next went to get noodles, than a pound of rice. I take my things over to the tradee(what we call the person who we trade with) and wait in another line. I keep my eyes on the ground, but the stares of others still burn me. I hate it when people stare at me, haven't they already looked enough?
This entire town is filled with pale blue eyes and straight blonde hair. Boys buzz cut their hair while girls wear their hair to their shoulders. Everyone's the exact same height at their age. Girls and boys are the same height up until they're nine, then girls become an inch taller than boys. Finally, at age thirteen, boys grow taller than girls by five inches. Same goes for weight. Every girl looks and acts the same, every boy looks and acts the same. And then there's me:
I have intense hazel eyes, and long curly brown hair. I've tried sheering my hair short with those long scissors you use to cut wool, but my hair grows back really fast. I've tried dousing my hair, and it keeps it straight, for a little bit. After approximately eleven minutes, it dries and curls back up. I'm extremely tall for my age. I tower over every girl and boy my age. I'm the same height as fifteen year olds. On the bright side, I weighs much as all the other girls. On the down side, I'm really tall so I seem thinner than what I am.