Still no search teams. I'm guessing that they're starting their searches in large, densely populated cities and then making their way toward suburbs. My neighborhood is only a few miles from Kansas City, so it won't be long before they make their way toward me and my mother.
Mother and I aren't doing anything interesting, so I guess I need to remember something from my past and write about it. My first girlfriend seems like a decent thing to remember.
Her name slips my mind--names are one of the hardest things for me to recall, at this stage of my disease--but she had long, dark hair. She was always very friendly to everyone she met, even the people she should have simply avoided.
I remember she told me that she was being abused by her parents. It wasn't something I understood at the time, because I had grown up in such a loving home. I also didn't understand how anyone could bring themselves to hurt her.
It wasn't long before I found myself in my own abusive relationship. That was when I finally understood that it doesn't matter how kindhearted, loving, or gentle you are; if someone wants to abuse you, that person is going to do it. It wasn't her fault that her parents hurt her. Who she was didn't factor into their choices.
I don't remember how or why that first relationship ended. Maybe it was because I just couldn't understand what she was going through.
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The Imperfect's Journal: 1General Fiction
This is the journal of Darren Stratt, an "imperfect" who is being hunted in America due to a new law which has stripped disadvantaged individuals--now called "imperfects"--of their rights. In Darren's journal, he documents the horrors of a world run...