Wait, what? Why is everybody looking at me? The 17 year old girl with the really long ponytail though, as the crowd stared at her in horror. The girl next to her had gone into some sort of hysterical state, were she had to be removed from her sight. Shrieks of grieve were heard coming from all places. The world felt like a hazy memory of someone else s life, as Cosette realized she had just been chosen to die. Me? Why me?
Miss Wiliams, dearest, would you please oblige to come join me? Jonh Jonhs asked with a solemn voice, stretching his hand for her. My 379 teasarae entrances have finally come to bite me in the butt, she thought as the crowd opened room for her. Soon she had reached the corridor that separated boys from girls, and walked down slowly, soaking in every weeping face in her sight. For a split second, she felt some relief in knowing her death would be mourn by a lot o people. Good friends whose company she wouldn t have the chance to enjoy anymore. The warm fuzzy feeling that came from the wave of care towards her, quickly turned in to a sharp pain. A pain that strikes those who suffer and unjust fate, and must die because of somebody else s war, somebody else s revenge and somebody else s entertainment. The butterflies in her stomach were quickly becoming loud bees, that ran through her spine and that threatened to make her burst in to tears at any second. But still, she managed to keep it together, until the very moment she steeped on the stage and got a good look on what she had just missed. In the 18 year olds row, her third oldest sister, Anette, was weeping profusely. On the 17 and 16 year olds row, two twin brothers and five nephews and nieces. In the 15 year olds and backwards, more nices, nephews, direct cousins, distant cousins, and even one aunt, her mother s younger sister that stared at her, with wet eyes, lower lip trembling, but without shedding a tear. It took this painful twist of fate, for Cosette to actually realize the full extent of her very large and messy family. Large, messy and awfully complicated, but there was nothing in the world she could have loved more. In district 8, it is traditional and socially correct, to have a large household, with a lot of children to work in the factories. It all makes sense, since most factories in 8 are old fashioned, with obsolete technology. This could be seen as a flaw, but it was actually a strategic decision: high technology usually means unemployment for a lot of specialized workers, and, the increase in production it might bring could lower the prices of goods, severely reducing the districts income. And having a lot of children is sometimes used as a scheme by women to avoid working in the factories. The time in between pregnancies is so small it invalidates any attempt at getting a contract signed. In the end, the women from the working class of 8 must choose between two fates: die of work related accident or decease, or by childbirth. Cosette had chosen the sweaty and smelly path of the factory. It has always been as clear as water that she was not destined to the conventional trajectories of life. By far, the tallest of her sisters, despite being the youngest, Cosette was the only brunette in a family of blondes, which diminished her value in the love market, so to speak. On top of that, she had the opportunity to learn one of the most off the character trades for women: mechanics. Being always dressed in dirty oiled overalls is not the best strategy to attract a mate. But somehow, it happened.
Miss Wiliams, dearest, would you please oblige to come join me? Jonh Jonhs asked with a solemn voice, stretching his hand for her. My 379 teasarae entrances have finally come to bite me in the butt, she thought as the crowd opened room for her. Soon she had reached the corridor that separated boys from girls, and walked down slowly, soaking in every weeping face in her sight. For a split second, she felt some relief in knowing her death would be mourn by a lot o people. Good friends whose company she wouldn t have the chance to enjoy anymore. The warm fuzzy feeling that came from the wave of care towards her, quickly turned in to a sharp pain. A pain that strikes those who suffer and unjust fate, and must die because of somebody else s war, somebody else s revenge and somebody else s entertainment. The butterflies in her stomach were quickly becoming loud bees, that ran through her spine and that threatened to make her burst in to tears at any second. But still, she managed to keep it together, until the very moment she steeped on the stage and got a good look on what she had just missed. In the 18 year olds row, her third oldest sister, Anette, was weeping profusely. On the 17 and 16 year olds row, two twin brothers and five nephews and nieces. In the 15 year olds and backwards, more nices, nephews, direct cousins, distant cousins, and even one aunt, her mother s younger sister that stared at her, with wet eyes, lower lip trembling, but without shedding a tear. It took this painful twist of fate, for Cosette to actually realize the full extent of her very large and messy family. Large, messy and awfully complicated, but there was nothing in the world she could have loved more. In district 8, it is traditional and socially correct, to have a large household, with a lot of children to work in the factories. It all makes sense, since most factories in 8 are old fashioned, with obsolete technology. This could be seen as a flaw, but it was actually a strategic decision: high technology usually means unemployment for a lot of specialized workers, and, the increase in production it might bring could lower the prices of goods, severely reducing the districts income. And having a lot of children is sometimes used as a scheme by women to avoid working in the factories. The time in between pregnancies is so small it invalidates any attempt at getting a contract signed. In the end, the women from the working class of 8 must choose between two fates: die of work related accident or decease, or by childbirth. Cosette had chosen the sweaty and smelly path of the factory. It has always been as clear as water that she was not destined to the conventional trajectories of life. By far, the tallest of her sisters, despite being the youngest, Cosette was the only brunette in a family of blondes, which diminished her value in the love market, so to speak. On top of that, she had the opportunity to learn one of the most off the character trades for women: mechanics. Being always dressed in dirty oiled overalls is not the best strategy to attract a mate. But somehow, it happened.