Room 9 on the Gaslight #2 Follow the Rules

My last class just ended and boy do I have a plan for what to do next.

Harley: Hey Jean!

I finally spotted Jean and took off running towards her. Jean considers herself to be a little rebel, but she pisses her pants every time we do anything slightly wrong. I keep giving her more and more outrageous things to do and every time I expect her to turn me down, but each time she surprises me.

Harley: So I’ve got a plan.

Jean: What type of plan?

Harley: The kind that is most definitely gonna get us in trouble.

Jean was very different than me. I had fiery red hair. She had gorgeous flowing blonde hair. She stood at a strong 6′. Whereas I was slightly above average height of 5’6″. She had a very athletic physique, and I was similar to that of a couch potato….. well, that’s not true, but I definitely could do some work and lose the muffin top. She dresses like she’s headed to church and I dress similar to that of a homeless person. My point being, we’re quite a sight together.

Now let me give a little back story, I met Jean when we first arrived at this horrid town. She gave us a tour of the place and wouldn’t leave me alone after because she had no other friends. Turns out that she’s an alright person. I keep her along for entertainment mostly.

I never really understood why everyone always avoided her. She’s a pretty girl.  Follows the rules, usually. Never even dared to break one until we met. All she’s said is that she’s always been rejected.

The first time we ever broke a rule, it, surprisingly, was her idea. It started off simple, quite innocent really. It started with wearing clothes 1 inch too short. Scandalous, I know. And each day we’d go an inch higher. It only took 3 inches before anyone noticed. We got in a bit of trouble. Anytime you break a rule they send you to the police station. So it gave us a tiny mark on our records. Nothing that would cause too much trouble.

We waited another month to try anything else. Still simple. We wore our navy clothes a shade lighter than allowed. We got caught that day. They have quite the keen eye.

After that we just kept going. Only doing little things, trying to see how long it would take. It never took long. They began to expect it.

     We ended up escalating a bit. Bringing soda and candy to school. They actually were able to smell it on us.

     Sneaking staples in. Weird rule but apparently that qualifies as weapon. We only got caught because they fell out of my pocket and someone in the next class noticed them on the seat.

I know what you’re thinking. Staples, fucking staples are considered weapons. Apparently a student once stabbed some into a teachers eyes. So no more staples.

     We’re barely allowed writing tools. They have those pens that are chained to the desks. Which is completely unfair. As a left handed person I feel discriminated against.

     So the teachers began expecting us to get in trouble. If it was just me then they’d call Jean in as well. And if it were Jean that got caught they would call me in too.

What’s the point, you may ask. Well the point is that we’re treated like prisoners. Well that’s not entirely true. The prisoners are simply executed. But my point still stands.

     We’re becoming adults and we don’t have any say in how our days go. So of course there’s a bunch of junky dropouts. But shhhh, they don’t actually exist. The town is much too pristine to have crackheads in the streets. No, they hide in the sewers. If they were to get caught they’d be killed, so it’s the best they can do.

     I think the point of all the rules is like Darwinism. Weed out all the shitheads and keep only the best.

Jean: So what might this plan be?

Harley: Well, how about I show you…

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

Create a website or blog at WordPress.com

Up ↑

%d bloggers like this: