#diary of

One month of absence has left me in a bitter taste with my writing. Well, my fanfic writing duties. Kinda sad, yes But, on a happy note, I’m working. On a sad (sort of) note, I’m studying at the same time.

I remember my mom telling me that it’s not easy being a working student, having to prioritize three things all at once - academics, work and social life/air. But me, being my stubborn self, urged her to let me be. Surprisingly, she allowed me to work.

I’m working at a fast food chain handling the counters on weekends (where my shift is longer 5-7 hours) or running orders (during weekdays where my shift is shorter 4-5 hours). Work is awesome and so are the people.

It’s already a month since I’ve worked and frankly, things are still getting rocky. But I try my hardest to look at things in a better light. My only challenge now is to squeeze in some nerdy time (fanfic writing/book reading bc I’m reading ‘Attachments’) My pay is good, but I’m a hopeless duck with money. Oh, and to add up my plate are lists of positions/priorities left for me to do in line with our majors and student program thing.

Day 1: I have been prepared for travel. Though it seems as if I was a child, no a baby, just this morning, they do not care.  They have taken my clothes, taken my family, and now I am being stuffed into a group of others who are, like me, naked and and frightened. We have all been separated into groups and in these groups, herded onto great large trucks. We do not talk. We are too afraid.

Day 3: We are still in the truck. It is dark and many of us have shifted and bumped into one another. It is unavoidable as we cannot move in the tight space. I worry that we will run out of oxygen and- I don't want to think about it.

Day 5: We have been moved from off the truck to a building with very high walls. There are rows upon rows of... some kind of platform, with more platforms above it all attached. I don't now how else to describe them. We have been forced in our groups to sit on these platforms, and there are others here. I do not know for how long they have already been here, but it scares me.

Day 23: I hate this place. It is horrible. We have been forced to sit on this platform for all this time, never given sustenance of any kind... Many of the other groups have been taken – all of us are looked at as if we are objects to be owned, grabbing at us and taking a group or two away. Once, my group was picked up, but we were taken by another one of them and put back down. Though the people doing this to us have now changed, they are the same – loud, demanding... Whenever one walks by us we all hold our breath, letting it out only once they have passed us by. Safe, for another time.

Day 27: It has occurred to me that I don't know what happens to one of us when a group is taken. Perhaps the life there is better than it is here. I am happy when we are left alone but what is that to be happy about? To get to sit on this platform for days on end, only to fear being picked the next day? What is the point of it?

Day 30: We have been chosen. They threw my group into a cart and I hit my head off something metal; it was round and cold. There are letters on the side, with bright colours, but I cannot read them. The cart is pushed – or pulled, for all I know – and we are off.

Day 30 (night): Oh no. I cannot think. This is horrible. I- I must let others know. They they – the monsters! - they took us to a place. It was outside. And we were all sat upon a table of sorts. It was made of wood and there were other things sat near us. I do not know what they were. One was brown and came in small rectangles, they looked like nothing I had ever seen before. The other things were these large, light brown (yellow?) squares. I do not know what they were for either, but the looked about the size of me. And then... They picked us up, ripped us out of the binds holding all of us together, and skewered a comrade of mine on a stick! I couldn't believe it. It was horrible, terrifying... so many other words. They'd do no good. He is dead. Then... then the took his body that they had put on a spike, and they stuck into a fire! He caught aflame and began to burn, a horrible smell rising from him... Then his body fell into the fire and the monster came back, stick empty, and picked up another to poke into the fire. God, what have we done to deserve this?! Why?! I feel a hand grab and squish me, and I can see the point coming for my head...