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2153RolePlayingStory

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August 21, 2153                 9:48 PM

Dear self,
                      
                                       Right now, it's the evening. And I'm laying in bed. Not my bed. A guest bed. In Boxxy's house. She let me spent the night last night, and she's letting me spend the night again. But I haven't slept at all. I haven't really slept in a few days, now I think about it. Oh well.
                                       So here's what happened yesterday. When I was walking to Boxxy's house, I got lost two times. I got there at about four-thirty or five o'clock. I knocked on the door, and when Boxxy opened it, she let out a sigh of relief, smiling.
                                          "Phew. I was getting worried. Come in, come in-"
                                          "Who's at the door?" A man stumbled to the door, wrapping his gray arms around Boxxy's waist, resting his head on her shoulder and kissing her neck. I thought it would be polite to look down and not look at them. So I did. So. Boxxy was married to Azure, huh? They did make the perfect couple.
                                          "Oh," Professor Azure muttered, glaring at me. "What are you doing at our house?"
                                          "She's here to talk, Azure. Go on, sit down, you two. I'll call down Fox and get us some tea."
                                       Boxxy gave Professor Azure a kiss on the cheek and gracefully spun around back inside.
                                        Professor Azure blocked the doorway and just stood there, staring at me. We stood there for a second. Why wouldn't he let me inside? He was just... glaring.
                                             "Well?"
                                              "May I please come inside, sir?"
                                             "Yeah."
                                         I stepped inside as he stepped back. He closed the door for me.
                                              "Thank you," I said, taking off my shoes and putting them by the door. I did not want to dirty their clean carpet.
                                               "I like your home," I said, looking around. The walls were as white as the carpet. It was like a giant hotel room, except couches instead of beds.
                                                "Mmm," was his reply as he walked right past me, putting his hands in his pockets, and sitting down on his couch. I frowned. I wanted to become friends with Azure. He seemed like a nice man if you got to know him. I wanted to get along. So, I sat down on the floor in front of him.
                                                 "Hi."
                                                 "What?"
                                                 "How was your day?"
                                                 "What kind of a question is that?"
                                                 "A good one."
                                                 He growled in anger, rolling his eyes and looking a direction that was not facing me.
                                                 "Why don't you like me?"
                                                  Azure blinked at me, unresponsive, and looked like I had slapped him in the face.
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August 20, 2153        3:49 P.M.

Dear self,
                                    I do not like school. Not one bit. Today was awful. It was okay at some parts, but mainly awful.
                                     When I got to school, some people scared me. And no, I'm not talking about looks. They were mean; saying awful things and hurting people. I have a really strong sixth sense, and I could tell most of them were demons. And it made my head hurt. Someone started yelling at me for some odd reason. I don't remember what he was angry about. He was just angry. And that made me sad. So I curled up in a fetal position and started to cry in the middle of the hallway.
                                   I don't remember how long I was on the floor, but when I opened my eyes, there was strong hands, GRAY hands, darting in front of my eyes, and picking me up by the collar of my sweater, lifting my feet off the ground and soon, sending me staring into electric blue eyes of an angry man.
                                        "What are you doing outside of MY class? LATE?"
                                        "Crying, sir," I answered.
                                    This man was a teacher. I could tell by the first sentence he barked at me. He was very tall and skinny. He had a lab coat and jeans, which might I say, did not match with his black shoes. That bothered me, but I kept my mouth shut. He had hair that was a darker gray than his skin, covering one of his eyes, and stitches were barely visible under them. But the ones on his neck I could clearly see. That made me very uncomfortable. This was the teacher that performed dissections, I had guessed. And that was really scary. Very, very scary. He was mad at me. And I was in trouble. And I started to cry. Again.
                                        "Fine. Get in," he demanded, putting me down and shoving me inside to an awful, chemical smelling classroom.
                                    Everyone was staring at me and the angry professor as we both stumbled into the classroom. Some people giggled. Other people looked concerned.
                                        "Now," he growled as I quickly found my way to a seat, "since you are FIFTEEN minutes late to my class, why don't you start by introducing yourself?"
                                     I stared at him, slowly trying to piece together what he was asking, word by word.
                                         "Well?" he said impatiently, interrupting my train of thought. "Why you little... If you even THINK about ignoring me-"
                                         "My name is Miesiac," I finally said, after understanding his question.
                                      Then the kids started to laugh at me. I felt myself shrink even more and my face turn red hot. All of them were laughing. All of them. Except for a few. But they were thinking it, I was certain of it.
                                      The professor groaned, infuriated, moving his long bangs out of his face so his glare could pierce through me even more.
                                          "You.... are interrupting... my class... I do not tolerate such misbehavior." A grin etched upon his face and the class went silent. All you could hear was the wind outside.
                                       Professor Azure's hand slid across his slick desk as he grabbed something on the surface. I blinked. The object was shiny. I liked that it was shiny.
                                        He stumbled over and lurched over my desk, grabbing my face, squishing in my cheeks very hard. My nose was squished, now, so it was kinda hard to breathe. My face started to hurt. I was scared. I could start to bleed from the inside of my mouth.
                                            "What do we have here...?"   His hand released my cheeks and trailed up my face to my left eye.
                                        I always kept a patch over that eye. I don't like seeing those "things". When the man took off the patch and stared at my eye, his jaw dropped in fascination.
                                            "This is such a marvelous eye." He moved the shiny thing and poked my eye with it. The object didn't hurt me. Or damage me. Since my eye is a robotic machine nothing bad happens to me physically.
                                        My eye clicked, angry, and flashed red lights in his face. His pupils shrank. My vision went black in my left eye and it returned to it's original color. Like it always did.
                                            "You look like a fun dissection project," he whispered, grabbing my face and squishing my cheeks again with one hand, and the other hand grabbing my elbow and pressing me against the seat. "Let me dissect you," he hissed, his eyes calm and his face nonchalant. I could feel his hot breath on my face. It was sending shivers down my spine. This was scary. And then I felt something sharp begin to prod at my skin.
                                         That's when I panicked on the inside.
                                             "Azure, wait-" a boy began, standing up out of his seat. Before the door swung open.
                                             "Azure, do you have a few extra SCANS ? I need a few extra-" A really pretty lady was standing at the door. She glared at the other teacher trying to rip open my precious skin.
                                             "AZURE!" she gasped, marching towards him. She took his hand furiously, and for once... the professor stood down.
                                              "This is my classroom...." he complained.
                                               "You. do. NOT. dissect. this. girl," the woman snapped, her brown hair getting in her face, before she blew it away with an irritated puff of air. "Oh, come on, dear, come with me," she said, looking worried as she put her hand on my arm gently to help me out of my seat. I realized how much of a wreck I must have looked. The thought of dying right there had made me so upset, my knees wouldn't work. And I was shaking. And I couldn't breathe real good. I was crying very hard and for a long time and hadn't noticed.
                                               "Boxxy-"
                                               "I don't want to HEAR IT, Azure! You should read student files BEFORE you go and try to dissect a disabled girl, especially on her first day!" And with those words, the woman slammed the door shut.
                                            I must have still been crying very much, because she got on her knees and rubbed my face, the tears smearing on my cheeks.
                                               "Shh shh shh.... It's okay, now... It's okay..."
                                                "Thank you," was all I could choke out before I started sobbing again. "Why would he do that? I didn't mean to do anything. I feel really sorry. Can I go apologize to him?"
                                                 "No no no, not at all. You didn't do anything wrong," she murmured. She gave me a hug.
                                              Can you believe it? Me. A hug. She gave me a hug. A complete stranger cared for me.
                                               She told me to take a couple of deep breathes, and I did. After breathing into her long, brown hair, she drew back, putting her hands on my shoulders.
                                                   "You feel better now?"
                                                   "Yes ma'am."
                                                   "Okay, come on, let's go to my classroom. I'll get you some soup."
                                                Soup? Nice lady? Hug? This was all too much. There's only one other lady who does that. My care-taker. I don't really... remember her name. She's a real nice person. Beautiful; she's got curly, cream-colored hair, very silky and nice to feel. She's got soft skin, and she's tall and skinny. Very graceful. The perfect image of a kind woman. Although she feeds me and gives me hugs and a place to stay,  I don't feel the same connection with her as I do... this Boxxy woman. Boxxy is different, somehow. And I never see my care-taker a lot.
                                               We went into her classroom and it was much different from the previous. Her room had brick walls and cement flooring. She had one single large window that took the majority of the portion of the wall on the far right side. She also had a clock on the wall. It was bothering me. Really bothering me. But I don't want her to take it down. I  don't want her to do anything else for me. She's already being too nice. Not that I don't like it. Because I do.
                                              Boxxy got a thermos from a net-looking bag under her desk. She moved her pretty hair from out of her eye before she unscrewed the cap. I stared at every movement she made. Boxxy handed me the thermos, and motioned for me to take a sip. I followed her gesture and drank the warm, comforting liquid as she pulled her chair, spinning it around, and dragged it from her desk to mine so that she was facing me.
                                                   "So," she began, resting her head on her hands, propping her white elbows on the table. "I'm so sorry that had to happen. Your name is Miesiac, correct? Well, hi, I'm Mrs. Boxxy. But you can just call me Boxxy, though," she said.
                                                I swallowed the delicious soup, and then blinked at her for a second. I then carefully placed the metal container on the desk and held my hand out. Boxxy narrowed her eyes at my hand.
                                                   "Uh.." she started before I interrupted her.
                                                   "I read it was a formal greeting from one person to another. A symbolism for saying 'hello'."
                                               Boxxy hesitantly stretched her hand forward and awkwardly took mine.
                                               We shook hands.
                                                   "I know a lot about you," she muttered, giving me a soft smile.
                                                   "Should I be creeped out?"
                                              Boxxy laughed this real pretty laugh.
                                                 "That's cute," she commented.
                                              I picked up the thermos and drank once again.
                                                  "How about you come over to my house tonight for dinner or something with me and my husband? We can all talk."
                                                   "That's really weird, miss."
                                               She giggled, rolling her eyes. "Just come on over after school. Here," she said, getting up and walking back to her desk, getting a sheet of paper off of it. Boxxy handed me the paper. It had words. Directions. I looked back at her and smiled.
                                                    "Okay."
                                                I didn't bother to question her. She wanted to talk, and I trusted her.
                                                We chatted for a bit more. Simple things. This woman was becoming my friend. I'm glad she's one of the teachers.
                                                After a few minutes, I finished the soap and thanked her for everything. She led me out and hugged me again, reminding me about after school. I said okay and then went back to class.
                                                When I walked in, Professor Azure said nothing, but continued instructing the students on how to make an incision on an animal they were dissecting. The creature was a mouse-frog.
                                                I sat down at the seat I was in before and stared at the mouse-frog in front of me. These creatures were not hard to find. They were basic mice, but with webbed feat, extended jumping height, and a long, sticky tongue to grasp insects with. They were cute. They were living things. Mine looked at me and sniffed my hand. No one wanted to disobey Professor Azure, and they'd already killed their projects and started chopping up innocent animals.
                                              I refused. Mine hopped into my hand and began to sniff my hand more in depth. It got on its two back legs and squeaked once, blinking up at me. It liked me. So, I named her 'It'. Since it was all I called her. It hopped onto my arm, scurrying down my side and into my pockets in my sweater. She curled up, and It started to sleep, breathing safe and comfortable in my pocket. I gently stroked It's fur with my pointer finger. Her fur was very soft.
                                              I looked over at a boy next to me. He was very tan with dark brown hair. And he was looking down regretfully at his dead mouse-frog.
                                                   "It doesn't feel right, does it?" I asked.
                                                   "Not in the slightest..." he whispered back, before he once again reached for his scalpel. I looked away.
                                              At the end of class, I accepted a zero for a test grade and walked outside of the school, and behind the entire city, which wasn't far from the back of the school. The land that went on for miles was just a desert wasteland. The sun was red, and my entire vision was almost orange from the light reflecting off the yellow sand. A normal day. I let It go. I let her free. Mouse-frogs love the radiated wastelands. They thrive off of the land. And I knew It would be happy. I wanted her happy. And I knew she would be a free mouse-frog as I watched her leap off into the distance. Maybe one day, everyone could have as much freedom and happiness as she did. Running to her family. It stopped in her tracks, looking back at me. She sniffed the air once, as if to thank me, then turned, hopping and squeaking back to her home. Back to where she belonged.
                                             And now I am at my care-taker's house. Alone. Like most of the time. I should stop this entry here since I have to get ready to go to Boxxy's house. I'll tell you all about it tomorrow.
                                             Bye.
                        
                                                                                                                                                     Miesiac
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August 19, 2153       11:25 A.M.

Dear self,
                                        My therapist told me I should make "diary entries" using the SCAN we had at school. He told me it would help me get over everything bad. This SCAN does not look like the ones we used at school at all. The mouth-piece isn't attached to my lips like it is at school. And the text is all green and pixel-y. It's old-school and pretty cool. I like the one we have at school better, though. It is more organized. And prettier. And shinier.
                                       Well, in case someone else picks up this SCAN or something, I'll introduce myself... or just introduce myself to myself to pass the time. I don't know. My name is Miesiac and I'm 15. A few weeks ago, I was diagnosed with Aspergers. I'm also hemophilic. And I'm physically weak. And really small. People make fun of me and it makes me sad. I cry a lot. Nobody likes to be around me, and no one is nice to me. That makes me sad, too.
                                       I don't talk a lot. That's probably because of my aspergers. It's a social disorder, so, I don't know if it's just my being or my disease. This diary is probably the most I've ever talked in a short amount of time. And now I think I know why my therapist told me to start this thing.
                                       I am so gullible.
                                        Oh, well. It's at least nice to have a heart-to-heart conversation with someone and be comfortable. Even if it is myself.
                                        I'm really nervous, by the way. I'm a mutation. And from a high-class of demon blooded family. And I don't want to be. Demons are mean and gross. When people at my school found out, I started to cry. And they kicked me out of school. And the reason I'm so nervous is because I'm being sent to a "special" school for the "gifted" individuals. I don't buy it. Not one bit.
                                       It looks scary. Scarier than the school I'm at now. The teachers have no limits since there is no law enforced by the government like it was decades ago. I hear this one teacher dissects his students if they're bad. That scared me. I don't like being scared. I can't handle it.
                                       I really like the moon and the water that people had a long time ago. I heard that before the nuclear war, you could actually DRINK and SWIM in the water. You could see the bottom it was so clear and crisp! Can you believe it? And the pictures of a moon on the horizon peeking behind an ocean or a lake...
                                       I wish I wasn't so lonely.
                                       I wish I knew what it was like to have someone love you and care for you. A person that wasn't your therapist and only took time with you was because they got paid for it. My therapist doesn't really listen to me anyways. He doesn't like me and thinks I'm weird. I wish I could have that feeling. Just once... Just once... I wish I wasn't so... lonely.
                                       I have to stop talking to the SCAN now because I am crying and I am too sad to talk anymore. Bye.
                  
                                                                                                                                         Miesiac
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(THIS CANNOT BE YOURSELF. IT HAS TO BE AN ORIGINAL CHARACTER)
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PR0|_0GU3

2 min read
The year is 2153.


                                 After the start of World War III, began in 2013, a special nuclear weapon known as the "NCHFS10" was designed by Amedeo Ricci, an Italian scientist, and put into production. Months later, the bomb was unleashed unto the world, and was carelessly used. NCHFS10 was sent onto all nations, almost completely annihilated the human race; civilization and humanity as we know it. All life remaining became hostile and/or mutated outcasts. Only a small handful of the human race remained unchanged. Hope was lost.
                                 Humanity was now even more divided by race, looks, health, well-being, and sanity. Mutation clans also evolved, and Mutation clans included: demonic rule, a sixth sense, powers, multicolored blood, skin, hair, eyes, etc., and radiation defects (rotting skin, organs, etc.). A large majority of radiation victims lost all sanity and state of mind. It is VERY rare to encounter a radiation victim, and most who do won't live to tell the tale.
                                 North America had the most civilization at the time, and many European and Asian survivors traveled there for a beacon of hope. The only thing that awaited them was even more severe radiation and mutations. There was no hope at all.
                                And as we come to celebrate the one-hundred and fortieth anniversary of life, we come to realize: ...Everything is the same as back then. And there will never be hope...
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August 21, 2153 9:58 PM by 2153RolePlayingStory, journal

August 20, 2153 3:49 P.M. by 2153RolePlayingStory, journal

August 19, 2153 11:25 A.M. by 2153RolePlayingStory, journal

CHARACTER SHEET FOR '2153' by 2153RolePlayingStory, journal

PR0|_0GU3 by 2153RolePlayingStory, journal