Snippet #2134648

Lex turned his head slowly as he heard a whisper of a girl next to him, and looked at her. She had red hair, and looked friendly, yet he was unsure if he should talk, or just say silent and ignore, but that'd be impolite. He gave a faint smile, and looked at her plate. ''See, miss, I think of something else if I eat this... 'food,'' he said politely, calling her miss. He looked at her, hoping he was polite and friendly enough. He didn't want to get beat up again, or hurt again, like he had been a lot in his life.

''I haven't been here too long. Just long enough to know that if you won't eat, they will just force you to do so,'' he said and looked around. He looked at the man in the corner who seemed friendly, but he didn't trust it. The man could as well not care, and just hide it. It worried him slightly, and he gave a polite smile back, before looking back at the woman next to him. He sighed softly and looked at her plate. ''It doesn't taste that good, but it's all you've got to eat, so maybe try thinking of something, like chocolate,'' he said politely and looked at his empty plate.

He hadn't been here for long, maybe a week or two. He wasn't completely sure, since time seemed to go so slow around here. It was as if someone was slowing down time just to make this place creepier and scarier. He knew it wasn't though, time went as fast as it always went. It was just in his head, in all their heads. The fear would keep him, and the others, at bay and make sure he, or the others, wouldn't get themselves in trouble. That's how it worked, sadly. He found it cruel, but there was nothing he could do against them. He didn't even dare to do anything against them.

A soft sigh escaped him, and he looked at his empty plate. He remembered his life with his grandparents, and a small smile spread across his face. Life with his grandparents was great.

He could remember his last birthday there. They had made a huge cake, with a lot of decoration and whipped cream. They than had eaten all of it and laughed when his grandfather had put his face in his part of the cake. They had a lot of fun that day, and went to bed happily. He missed that time.

He than thought of his father. It had been sad but happy. His father often cried, but they did some fun stuff too. They did lessons together, and often made jokes or songs about what he had to learn. He'd loved to sing along with his father. He'd loving singing and dancing, and often practiced in his room. He liked that, but here he wouldn't. He was too scared to even talk really, yet he had just talked to the woman beside him, which was a small miracle. He hadn't expect to talk, but not talking would be not be polite.

Curse his politeness. He probably was the most polite of all around here. He had grown up to be polite, and never act impolite. He would keep that promise to his father and grandparents. Than at least they would be always be with him. They would be anyway, because he always thought about him. He loved them, with his heart, and had rather given his life for them to live, sadly it had turned around the other way. But he had to keep positive, other wise he wouldn't survive at all. So he would keep as positive as he could.