Hai.
You're reading this in cry's voice.
This is not a distraction
You are very sleepy
You are very…ZZZZ…
…
CHAPTER TWO: HOPE
JANUARY 1, 1930
"As I was trying to explain," Roger began once more in frustration, "And I understand that this concept is decades away, and a little hard to grasp, but it's an idea I've been chewing at for a length of time."
The Chairman of the company rolled his eyes and nodded. He was a heavy-set man, about fifty by the looks of it, with greying hair and dark brown, super-serious eyes. It was the first time he had agreed to hear Roger out, and this gave him just a glint of hope. Maybe today was the day. Today might just be the day that his fate would change forever. "Go on. I haven't all day." The man gruffly said.
"Yes, yes." Roger drew out the rolled-up poster board from his backpack and flattened it against the tack-board the company had provided for his presentation. The first one of the New Year. On the paper, there was a neatly drawn figure, the internal structure of a human being was revealed on a cut away. It was essentially the same as any figure, except for one crucial part of their anatomy. "Could you tell me, sir, what is wrong with this man?"
"Nothing." The chairman replied, "He's just a normal human being, like anyone else."
"Wrong!" Roger shouted with a swing of his arm, "Look closer and you'll see that it's missing a brain."
"So you came here to tell me that we need to remove our worker's brains?" The man said skeptically. There were murmurs of dissent from around the oblong table. The younger boy flushed red and went back to his diagram.
"No." He muttered, "But I do- I mean…resurrecting the dead is possible. I…"
The chairman started to guffaw in laughter. "You're round the bend, kid!" He snorted, "Tell you what, when you can prove this theory-what did you call it?"
"Artificial Intelligence Programs." Roger whispered.
"Well, when you have proof, give me a ring. I'll see you in about never." The chairman turned to a younger girl who stood by the door, looking quite aghast at whatever she had seen. "Escort him out please."
The girl bowed, sending her auburn hair across her face. "Y-yes father." She motioned to Roger, who had already started to pack up. He hauled his back pack across his shoulder and started for the door. At the last second, when the girl was already ahead of him, Roger threw the chairman both fingers. He laughed darkly to himself as he heard the gasps of disbelief echoing from the room.
"Filthy street boy." one muttered. Roger closed the door behind him. The girl who had been told to 'escort' him out had waited for him by the clergy desk. She looked at him with happy green eyes.
"That was awful." She smiled.
"I'm sure if it really bugs him that bad, he can just pay to have a hit man come and kill me. Isn't that what you rich people do to people you don't like?" Roger shot her a playful glance. "Filthy street boys." He mocked, pushing against the door with his free hand.
"I have to escort you home." The girl caught up to him before he could make it out the door with at least some dignity. "So, where do you live?"
"Where do filthy street boys generally live?" Roger shrugged, answering his own question sarcastically. "I dunno, maybe…the street?"
"Oh." The girl looked sad for a moment, "I thought they were just making fun of you." They were outside now, it was rather chilly outside, and there was a nip to the air that hadn't been there before. Roger kept walking, with the girl tailing him. He turned down the alley around the side of the building and set his things down underneath his red and white umbrella.
"Yeah." He said quietly, "This is where I live." He sat down and looked up at the strange girl with his light brown eyes from under the shade of the umbrella. "You've done your job, so you can get back to whatever it is you do. Tara."
She smiled something brilliant and kneeled down so that she could be level with him. "Well, I didn't get you name. That would be rude of me if I didn't introduce myself. I'm Hale Elisabeth Griffiths."
"Roger." He sighed, shaking her hand in exasperation. What was this girl up to?
"I thought your idea was really neat." Hale said with genuine truth, surprising Roger. "I mean, it's definitely a faraway concept, but you shouldn't give up just because my dad says so. He can be kind of a jerk sometimes."
Roger just shrugged uncomfortably. "It's not worth pursuing. I don't have the money…I think gladiator's just about had it with me. I don't know where else to go. I don't know what else to do. I just…don't know. I'm scared, because in all reality…I believe everything they said about me back there."
"Tell you what." Hale clapped her hands together excitedly, "What if I come and talk to you every day? I have school Monday through Friday of course, but I can be here all day on the weekends, except Sunday mornings and sometimes I have to work…"
"Anytime you're free would be great." Roger interrupted. Hale smiled another one of her award-winning grins.
"Well, tara then."
"Tara."
I think my luck has started to change, though not quite in the way I originally intended. It's funny. Nothing ever turns out how we intend, does it? Nothing ever changes in this big, wide world. But we do change. We try to adapt to something that doesn't, and I find this almost laughable because it was what I was trying to do all along, but really all I had to do was be myself and hope for the best.
I'm hoping.
Roger
…
PANDORA, Y U NO GIVE ME GOOD MUSIC.
Also, thx for reading this shiznit. Luvs and hugs!
