Oh my gosh it's been like freakin FOREVER since I updated last! After the crazy snow storms we've been having in my area, we lost power. Then we regained it four days ago but STILL DIDN'T HAVE FREAKING INTERNET! Yeah, our wifi was down until literally five minutes ago. Of course the first thing I missed was you guys, so I'm going to update twice to show how sorry I am :( I already have, like, six chapters of this story written, and they're going to be longer than normal. Amazing what you can accomplish when you're not distracted by reading OTHER people's Fanfictions. Speaking of which, I'm reading a story called Half Truths. It's a Mortal Instruments fanfiction by purrina57, and it's incredible! Check it out and give her a review, pretty PLZZZZ!

||Oh, BTW, I changed the story to first person POV like Sleeping Quarters because I love that and it's so much easier to write. So enjoy!||

Chapter 2

Jack opened a door and walked inside, flopping on a hammock.

"This is where I sleep," he said casually, as the hammock rocked from side to side. He interlocked his fingers behind his head and smirked up at me. "Grace sleeps over there." He pointed behind me to another small space with a hammock, but with a lot more girly colors and clothes.

I nodded. "So, you live here?"

"Yeah. Grace and I lost our parents to the dictator several years ago in an attack, so when we found this place we moved right in. It's kinda like our second home."

He stopped, his eyes and features hardening. "I shouldn't have told you that."

"I won't tell anyone," I promised. Jack stood up.

"I have to go," he said coldly, shoving by me as he went to the door.

I cried out as I lost my balance and fell into a dresser, spilling little trinkets all over the floor.

Jack swore. He ran his hand through his hair violently, then stalked over to me, pushing me yet again out of the way. I fell back onto Jack's hammock, which swung underneath me.

I steadied myself and stood. Jack was picking up all the things that had fallen.

He turned. "Are you going to help or what?"

I snapped. "It was you who shoved me into it!"

He snarled and was about to say something else when the door opened. A man came walking in.

"Jack? Do you need any help?" He asked.

He was handsome, about my age. He saw me and smiled. I smiled back.

Jack stood. "Chris. Can you take Kim to her quarters?"

"Yeah," he said, glancing at the stuff on the floor. He motioned with his hand, and I followed him out, not looking at Jack. He could be arrested by the dictator for all I cared.

You don't mean that, a voice in my head said.

Do you?

I shook my head and followed Chris down the hallway to the opposite end.

"So are you staying here?" He asked while we were walking, turning his head to look at me. I looked into his eyes and realized how soft they were. How different from Jack's, which were hard and unrelenting. Chris's were warm and inviting and friendly.

"You know, you're the first person here that hasn't treated me like I'm a child or an enemy," I observed.

Chris chuckled. "Well, Grace isn't too good with words and Jack's pretty closed off. Besides, when people can turn against you at any minute, it's good to make friends so there's less of a chance of you being betrayed."

I bit my lip. "That's different. I've always heard if you're going to be betrayed then you should never let anyone in."

Chris shrugged. "I just want this damn war to be over. I wish the dictator would die in his sleep, so we could all be free."

I shook my head. "It wouldn't be that easy. If he died, someone would replace him and we'd be back to square one. We have to take him down as a whole. If only we could persuade the entire town to rise up."

There was a tense pause.

"My little sister fought," he said quietly and hesitantly. "She was only twelve but she was clever and quick, like a fox. She killed thirteen guards with a dagger before—" he almost choked on his words but disguised it as a cough. "Before they got to her. I remember watching her and knowing there was nothing I could do as they tortured her and eventually left her there for dead."

His voice finally cracked and he stopped to wipe his eyes. He tried to stay looking tough but I could see right through it.

I put a hand on his arm. "Hey."

Chris had a tear staining his cheek, which he got rid of rather aggressively.

"Hey," I said again. "It's okay. You can't beat yourself up about it. She sacrificed herself for the resistance. There was nothing you could do."

Chris nodded. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have told you all that. I just met you and now you think I'm weak."

I shook my head. "No. Everyone needs to let it out sometime. You boys can't be macho all the time."

Chris smiled. "I don't know what it is about you. You kinda make me feel like I can tell you anything and you won't judge me."

I thought about Jack baring his soul for a split second before realizing what he'd done. Did I really have that effect on everyone?

We got to the end of the hallway, and Chris said, "You never answered my question."

I cocked my head. "What question?"

"If you're staying here or not."

"Probably not," I replied. "My parents would be worried sick. But I might need a place to come to in case things go bad."

He quirked a smile. "That's a pretty good idea."

Chris opened the door and showed me an almost empty room. There was a small bed—not a hammock—but enough for maybe two people. It had a fluffy white pillow and sheets, but they were so old they almost had a yellowish tint to them. There were crates on the floor and a wire connected to two walls, creating a taut line. There were mangled hangers on it, looking as if they'd been fashioned from spare metal.

"Gloomy," I commented, walking over and sitting on the bed. It was surprisingly comfortable.

Chris leaned against the doorframe. "Glad you like it. You got time to get some coffee?"

I started. "You have coffee here? How'd you manage that?"

Chris smirked. "We have a contact in the government who provides us with the stuff we need, and even a little extra."

I stood up quickly. "Oh my gosh! I just remembered. My parents are going to be home soon. I have to go!"

I ran past Chris and stopped, looking back.

"Thanks, by the way. For everything."

Chris nodded his head. "No, thank you. And I'm sorry about Jack. He's just really been on edge lately since there very well might be an uprising—and we might be the ones starting it, meaning the pressure and punishment could be great. You know how it is."

I nodded. "I'm sorry I can't stay for coffee. I'll come back tomorrow night and maybe we can grab some then. No, wait—" I paused. "My mom and dad are gonna be working tomorrow. How about the day after?"

Chris shook his head. "A contact told us there's going to be a raid that day. We're all going to have to be careful and watch what we do. I'm sure they'll have spies checking for suspicious activity. But there are people who live here full time, like Jack, Grace and I, who only come out in emergencies. I'm surprised the two of them are still tan. I think it's just their natural skin tone. I'm getting paler by the day."

I quirked a corner of my mouth up. "Thanks, Chris. And I'll be sure to warn my parents about the raid."

"No prob. Now, get!" He teased, slapping me playfully on the back. "Go home and get warm!"

I waved goodbye, and walked until I found the big room where I had been before. It was completely abandoned. It seemed bigger, even colder with no one there.

I redid my braid and smiled slightly at how blonde it still was considering how dirty I got every day.

I flinched to myself as my cheek started throbbing. Great. That Grace girl really made a mark. I could almost feel the bruise growing.

I made my way back through the tunnel, where a man was waiting.

"Are you it?" He asked, hesitantly looking me over.

I cocked my head. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, are you the last of everyone in there besides the ones who are staying?"

I nodded. "I believe so."

The man motioned me through the tunnel and as soon as I started climbing up the shaft of the well, I heard the sound of gurgling water and gears creaking. The water, which so finely guarded their secret, was slowly rising under me, sealing the entrance to the hideout.

I climbed faster, willing my legs to be strong. I was skinny, but not emaciated, developed but not curvy, and strong but not as strong as I should've been living in that time period. You had to be prepared for anything.

I grabbed the last handhold just as it, too, started to give way beneath my hands. I hauled myself out of the well and crouched beside it, gasping.

Yeesh. What a workout at midnight. I narrowed my eyes. Well, tunnel-man must've wanted to scare me out of there pretty fast.

Then I realized how filthy that water must be. From several hundred dirty pairs of hands and feet every day, that water must be pretty germy. I gagged slightly to myself. Gross.

But I guess, at this point, it didn't really matter. The dictator couldn't care less if every one of the people in our town keeled over dead from foul water.

I shook these thoughts from my head and stood up slowly, walking in the direction of my home. When I saw it, I slipped through an open window I had purposefully left like that into my kitchen. After listening for any sound and hearing nothing, I quietly crept up to my room.

To any person visiting, the silence of the town would be eerie and a little scary. You would've thought everyone was dead. Back when—years and years and years ago—my grandmother lived, she said when she was little there were these things called cars that transported people places faster than walking or running. She said also there were things like a television, where people watched stuff move in color, and a refrigerator, which held food that needed to stay cold so it wouldn't rot. And a piano, which I have actually seen; my neighbor secretly showed me it once. But it was soon taken in a raid, which were random and quick, sometimes in only one part of the city. When my grandmother had been twelve, all that stuff had been taken to the dictator's city. He called it his City of Gold.

I shut my bedroom door behind me.

My room was small and cramped, but I still fit in it after seventeen years in the same bed. There was just my bed, a box with all my clothes, and some shelves hammered into the walls filled with books and journals.

I collapsed onto my saggy bed and laid there, too hyped up to be tired. I had found the underground! I wanted to scream with joy. Finally I had a chance to be a part of something that would change the world and possibly set us free.

I slid my jacket off and hung it on my bedpost. Then I took off my boots and curled up in my jeans, long-sleeved black shirt, and socks. I carefully released my hair from its braid, fluffed it, and pulled the covers up over my shoulders. I'd be paying for this little night escapade in the morning, but it was worth it. I could always catch up on sleep later.

I smiled in my sleep and almost squealed again.

I had found the resistance!

A/N: That's a wrap! Alright, next chapter should be up tonight. Thanks for reading, and spare a review...? The more reviews I get, the faster I update. Seriously, I'm not kidding. Reviews keep me writing faster.

And if you didnt read the top part—in case you haven't noticed—I changed the POV to first person.

So, see you soon!

—Kit Kat