Snippet #2345282

Andy woke suddenly, startled by the image he had seen in his sleep of his dead parents, shot to death on the kitchen floor. He sat up in his bed and rubbed his face with his hands exhaustedly.

Whelp. He certainly wasn't getting back to sleep tonight.

This happened all too often, nearly every night. These nightmares haunted Andy to no end. Nightmares of the Multichrome trials, his back-breaking forging job from which he was never paid, the sinister faces of his owners. And then there were always his parents. He missed them so much. They had probably been the best parents anybody could ask for. They were just gone all of a sudden.

Of course, this all happened three years ago. When Andy's parents were killed, it hadn't felt real. Sure, he had caught a glimpse of them, but he was quickly taken away. The death of his parents never fully sunk in. He kept feeling like he'd come back from captivity and they'd be there to welcome him home. But when it finally happened, they weren't.

Instead of attempting to find sleep again, Andy turned on the light and pulled out his laptop, continuing his term paper for school. Might as well. Besides, he found history interesting. He often absorbed himself into reading about all the failed societies that had been and which groups of people were mistreated for what reasons. And then he would contemplate that no group of people was ever mistreated for a legitimate reason. Just like his people, the Multichromes. They were mistreated constantly, even post-Trials. If they took one step outside the gated Multichrome Village, they'd be risking their lives.

But on the outside, school awaited. Life awaited. They couldn't stay here forever. So a difference needed to be made. Andy felt as if that was his job. All he needed was for some people to back him up, Multichrome or no.