(c) Oriel Diaries

Short random drabble when I was in school
Content: PG 13. Some younger people may find it a little less friendly than others.
Title: The Oriel Diaries
Status: Chaptered and incomplete
Summary/Exerpt: Oriel is an institute for those with nothing left. Here are some diaries from its residents.
Warnings: Some irony and mild disturbing notions

__

The Oriel Diaries - Part One

Hear that? No, stop listening for an ordinary sound and truly listen. Ignore the callous calls from the people shuffling around you, the sonorous echo of rubber being flung mercilessly against a brick wall and listen.

Hear it yet?

Maybe not. Close your eyes. Shut out the fading sunlight as the orb of radiance sinks lower behind the building, dragging its rays behind it like an overprotective mother. Draw the curtains on the curious faces peering at you, standing there looking so out of place. Shut out everything except this amazing, beautiful sound.

You don't hear it do you? What are you doing here, kid? Who sent you? This isn't a place for normal people, and you seem pretty darn average. Nothing peculiar about you, other than the fact you stick out like a sore thumb in an institute for freaks, which frankly is nothing to feel a great sense of achievement over. This is Oriel High.

Look around you. You can open your eyes now, the sun is drawing back quicker, acknowledging our seeming lack of existence. See their faces? Pale, blank, corrupt and lifeless. See the way they move in slow succession? Like they're not even moving of their own free will but being pushed? See the way they drag their feet like their life is already over, despite only being in their teenage years? That's Oriel.

Hear the way the birds are drowning out, being chugged out by the groanings of a thousand depressed looking faces, and the whistles are blowing from each end of the field, high pitched screeches for order pounding into our already numbed brains? That's Oriel.

See the way the mothers are pulling their youngsters away from the bars, commanding them not to look for too long, afraid, deadly afraid that their little ones will get drawn in? That's Oriel.

And look at you, shoulders hunched, face dragged down into a morbid mask. Your eyes are wide and yet I already see the creativity and enthusiasm draining from them. That, my friend, is Oriel.

They test us here. They test us for intelligence, stamina, and any other abilities we may possess. You'd better do well, or see that pillar of smoke curling up in the distance? You'll end up there. You'll feel the smoke crushing its iron fist around your lungs, forcing its way down your throat. You'll feel it and won't even know because you'll have been numbed by Oriel.

So welcome, the good news? You never have to leave. The bad news?

You don't get a choice.


__
End of Chapter One

checked. chester.

-