how we got here

tres.

 The Capo Class was a newly founded branch of the Third Class, and whether people knew it or not they were in charge. A majority of the Capo were the yearbook committee or newsletter editors, and they used these skills to their advantage. West Glosser, the yearbook president who I never got along with for multiple reasons, starting with his own distaste towards me, led the brigade, publishing news and propaganda every week for the students, but also stirred up his own little kind of drama.

West did everything in his power to stop "Class Apologists", or people who had any sort of remorse for the people we had mutilated and shot and killed. Now, everyone had some guilt in their heart, I was sure that was true. That being said, all someone had to do was to go to West with the name of someone they hated and that innocent person's face would be on everyone's minds, along with the promise that they would go free if they turned themselves in to the Capo.

Every time, they would run crying to West. Every time, he had no remorse as he planned their execution.

The idea of bringing an opinion to West that he might not agree with shook me to my core. A month and a half ago I would have had no thoughts in my mind of a kid my age being a ruthless dictator with no opposers that stayed alive for longer than a week. However, if this was the world I lived in now, I might as well have tried to fight for what I believed in.

I knocked on the door of what was once a meeting room for teachers, being met by the big guy himself. He smiled at let me in without a word, and I said nothing to him. At this point, all it would have taken was a word and we would have been throwing punches. Instead of talking to West himself, I turned to a male student lounging on a sleek velvet loveseat. "I wanted to run something by you guys," I began.

"By all means, go ahead," West responded. I glared at him.

Taking the paper in my hands, looking at my own now-smudged handwriting, I cleared my throat and began.

"The chaos that has been ruling over this campus has gone on for too long. Although a revolution is what we needed, there has to be some guidelines for what can and cannot be done." I squinted to read the footnote I made to add in. "The fire three days ago is a perfect example of such.

"The idea that there are rules in place is idiotic, frankly, and I have come to you today to bring a code for all of the Third Class to hear, to know, to follow.

Number One: All suspicions should have a clear reasoning and evidence to back these up. Law should be implemented into executions to see if the person should go free.

Number Two: Students should have the rights to liberty; fear will no longer be a factor of everyday life.

Number Three: If one student has a right to something, such as a certain form of weaponry or resources, so does everyone else. As is the way of equality.

Number Four: We are absolutely not divided. There is no doubt in our minds that we are a student body, and we will remember that there is a way to win this fight, and that is together.

This is the Declaration of our Rights as the Third Class, which will live on in honesty, liberty, equality, and connection."

The room was silent for a few minutes. The Capo exchanged glances, seeming to talk only in eyebrows and blinks. I began to speak again.

"You, you don't have to agree just yet. All that I ask is you publish this, word for word, into the paper, and you ask for student feedback. Please." I set the paper on a nearby coffee table. A Capo reached for it, taking it into her hands. She read it over and just nodded.

I read that as a good time to leave the room.

Carlie sat on my bed, her wavy hair pulled into a bun with little curled strands lining the sides of her face. Her tongue was stuck out between her teeth as she continued to scribble into her journal.

It had been about two weeks since the Declaration of Third Class Rights was set into motion. The Capo decided to let the rules slide as the people seemed to appreciate them, but only if the title was shortened. I agreed, since they could have renamed it "Emmett's Wild No Fun Allowed Rule-a Palooza" and it would have been okay with me. I was just pleased that there was some order to our lives now. We were finally starting to rebuild.

"Hey, quick question," Carlie interrupted the comfortable silence of the dorm room. "Which one sounds more interesting - greed or avarice?" She was always journaling, trying to write down everything that happened in a day, from how long it rained for to the types of embellishments were added to our uniforms. Secretly, I still think she was doing it to write some sort of memoir. She still believed this craziness would end, but it had been three months and no one from outside had intervened.

"I have no idea what that other one means, so greed." I responded, smiling as Carlie laughed, a strangely deep gut laugh that never failed to surprise me.

"They mean the same thing, but okay," Carlie scribbled down a little more before closing up the journal. "Hey, so we're going to need more food eventually." I waited for her to continue. "I just think we need to leave here soon, to go look for help. From other schools, the rest of society, even, maybe we can try and fix the outside world, too, like if we --"

Carlie was cut off by a chime that made my stomach drop. Someone had gotten the PA system working again, but who? I braced, waiting for some government official to tell us to cease our chaos and allow ourselves to be escorted to jail immediately, or whatever it was police did in this situation.

"Good afternoon, students!" An usually peppy female voice echoed over the loudspeakers, startling Carlie and me. "If you haven't met me yet, most people - myself included - call me The Odd. It was a nickname long before this revolution," she explained. "I just wanted to let you all know two things. Number one, I got the PA system working! Whoo!" Something about the way she cheered made my stomach lurch. "Secondly, I was able to find more supplies strewn about the school that were boarded and hoarded by our long-gone oppressors! More updates later darlings, remember to never stop fighting."

The intercom clicked off and I looked at Carlie. She simply shrugged. "Have no clue." The Odd's appearance, as positive and bright it seemed, would lead to our downfall.