Mildew. It wrapped itself around my cage bars and mocked me. It wasn't a literal cage. It was a cage in my mind and it was disgusting. The walls were wrapped with a black soot and the bars as aforementioned had mildew on them. The ugly little bench was dusty and the corners of this cell had a few cobwebs but even the spiders refused to live here now. As disgusting as my call was it was beautiful to me. It was safe, it was home.
I know, I know this sounds weird and honestly creepy and its supposed to be. Its supposed to be attention grabbing, and it is. Now down to whats actually going on.
A almost empty exam room and a dull teacher on the brink of exhaustion, oh and me. I probably should have left and handed in my paper already considering that I was done but I wanted to see how long I could last. It was an experiment of sorts you could say and how ironic that my exam was a science exam? Twirling my pencil between my fingers I waited until everyone had left and the time was up. So far there was only one other girl here, she was sleeping on her paper and I could see that for the past hour the teacher had been annoyed but as far as the rules go she wasn't breaking any so he had no right to wake her up.
Some time passed, probably 20 minutes at most. He made the 5 minute call and the girl shot up like a bullet. To an achingly programmed degree the pencil was in her hand and she was busy scribbling away. After the briefest of minutes she seemed done and she went back to sleep. Time droned on and I started to bore. My eyes filtered around the large class venue that seated more or less 150 students on a normal day. Normal was relative though. Like my name.
If you haven't noticed yet than good but if you have then let me explain why as yet you do not know my name and why this seems such an unrelatable book. Well as mention normal is subjective and in my perspective names are irrelevant. People just are but at some point I suppose in this story of honesty my namesake shall be revealed so may as wel be by my own hands. I am Quince, Quince Blackbook. Its a rather strange name and I suppose that it has no absolute value but then again, what does?
What I mean to say is, if human lives are nothingness then so are our actions right?
***
IF YOU'VE STUCK AROUND WITH OUR INANITIES FOR THIS LONG THEN I GUESS WE SHALL MEET IN CHAPTER 1...
YOU ARE READING
Rabbits.
HumorA story about people. Not anything specific or detailed or somehow even a slight bit interesting, its just people. Real, somehow relatable people. A story of people.
