Alter Trials

Pre-trial 2: The Call

-Primrose-

     "Eh?" Primrose inquired.

     "Look!" Sheila exclaimed.

     "At what?" she asked with an exaggerated tone of disinterest.

     "Him! He's really cute!" She shouted in her ear.

     "Not so loud, I'm right here," she said leaning away from her overly excited friend. "Anyway what about him?"

     Sheila sighed frustratedly "Just look at him! He's gorgeous! And he wants to meet you!"

     "What!?" Primrose bolted upright in her seat. She was the one that shouted this time and all the other customers at the coffeeshop were looking at her now.

     "Sorry," she said in embarrassment to no one in general but everyone. Now she was interested though. She grabbed Sheila's phone and looked at the boy she had been trying to get her to look at for the past five minutes.

      "Eh? He's cute. But you were giving him way to much credit," she said with a tone of superiority.

      "What!? No! Are you blind? He's gorgeous! I would eat him for breakfast he looks so good!" Sheila exclaimed defensively.

      "Umm Sheila... that's really weird," Primrose replied amusedly.

      "I know," Sheila sighed, "I'm hungry... Maybe we should stop ordering coffees and get some actual food to eat."

      "Yeah... After the second one they begin to get uninteresting," Primrose added.

(*bzzzt bzzzt*... *bzzzt bzzzt*)

      "Huh?" Primrose thought she had turned her phone on silent during her coffee night with Sheila. She pulled it out intending to ignore whoever it was and turn the volume off but the message on her screen caused her to stop.

     [From: Dad - It's very important. We need you to come home now please.]

     "He knows its my coffee night," she huffed. "It must be really important then," she thought to herself."

     "Hey Rose, you ok?" Sheila asked sounding concerned.

     "Yeah, why?" She replied, confused.

      "Because your expression turned really serious," Sheila explained.

----------------------

      "These red lights are so annoying," Primrose growled. She could not figure out what was so important that she had to leave during her coffee night and go home right then. As the light turned green it started to lightly rain. She sighed, "I could really use another hot coffee if the weather is gonna be like this," she paused. "Hot chocolate would work too..."

----------

     Primrose stretched while gazing up at her house. A house by the lake that many people would probably never be able to afford with its large oak front doors and modern, yet Victorian, look. Taking a deep breath she opened one of the doors and stepped inside, closing the door behind her as quietly as possible. She turned to face a silent, empty hallway. She could hear nothing from the upstairs and nothing from the adjoining rooms branching off of the main hallway.

     "Hello?" she inquired cautiously. "Is anybody here?"

     "In here Rose," she heard her fathers reply coming from their family room to the left of the main hallway.

     "I came... Just as you said. Oh," she stopped. Her next door neighbors were there as well, seated on the couch across from her, next to her parents. And nobody appeared to want to look at her. "Umm... What's going on?" she nervously asked.

     "Sit down," her father ordered her softly, looking up at her with red eyes. Why had he been crying?

      "Oh. Ok," she managed, while sitting down nervously in the closest chair.

     "Primrose... you know what happened two days ago during the Presidential Conference right?" her father began.

      "Yes, how could I not have it was all over the news yesterday. With the three deaths and all."

     Her mother began to cry and her father looked helpless. He opened his mouth like he was about to say something before closing it again. She couldn't help but notice the lone tear trace its way down the right side of his face.

     "You... Y... You were called," he croaked.

     "Wha-... What do you mean?" she asked quickly with a sense of panic beginning to grow inside of her.

     "You were called," he repeated, "to participate in... In those... Whatever they are! I don't know d****t! But they chose you!" he shouted before breaking down on her mothers shoulder.

     "How... I mean... I can't... This can't be real... No... There's gotta b-..." She never finished her sentence. She stood up and and hurried out of the room and to her room upstairs where she locked the door and threw herself on her bed. And began to cry.

     "This can't be happening. This can't be happening. This can't be happennninnnggggg!" she sobbed into her pillow.

     All the sudden she was so angry. At her coffee day being ruined. At those who selected her. At those who would be able to continue living normally. At herself for being selected. Everything. It was a rage at everything, yet nothing, for causing her to be selected for this stuff. She was angry to the point of despair. She bolted upright grabbed her pillow and screamed into it before throwing it across the room.

     She sat there sobbing until she was exhausted. She could barely keep her eyes open. She fell backwards, sprawled out on her bed and as one last tear formed and ran down her cheek she said: "Hope," and slipped away into a murky world of unconsciousness.