xiv. Lethal

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chapter fourteen
lethal






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The Academy, 2001






          AURORA, as young as she may be, was brutal.

          While other people might think of it as something atypical — or even, to a certain extent, problematic — to her, it was just a regular Tuesday afternoon. From a very young age, Aurora had quickly learned that the world isn't exactly the friendliest place. It wasn't all sunshine and rainbows, like how most cartoons depicted. There wasn't always going to be a hero to save the hostage from the villain, and princesses aren't always going to wake up from their magical slumber.

          No. Six-year-old, little Aurora, had learned and known that the world is a cruel, dark, and fucked up place. (Using the words of twenty-two-year-old, adult Aurora, because profanity was strictly prohibited in the Academy.) 

          If it wasn't — then, why was she here in the first place?

          Why wasn't she at home with a mum, waiting for her dad to come home in their white picket fence, as she ate all the cookies in the cookie jar. Why did she only have one name, when the people in the films they've watched had two — one to call them by, and one to address which family they belonged to. If the world wasn't such a cruel place, why did the instructors tell her, at the age of nine, that her parents were never coming back from six feet underground?

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