Snippet #2152639

Thomas was looking around, bewildered by all of this. They were... somewhere with their old teacher, who instead of making rainbows appear from behind him was looking at them like a cat does a mouse. They were supposed to kill each other?! He knew that he wasn't favored by many of his classmates, nor was he fond of many of them. But there was a giant difference between disliking somebody and killing them. He shuddered a bit at the thought, but knew that it was a key out. If he needed to fight, then he would.

He turned as Caleb asked Gamba a question about the collars. He tugged at the one around his neck, wondering how to get the thing off. It was uncomfortable and what if his neck itched? He wouldn't have anyway to scratch it. Thomas waited quietly, glancing at the others occasionally.



Marcela started humming a bit as the man in charge of this country's BR Program began to speak in English, and very loudly at that. She never understood English people. Looking around boredly, there was finally some action when a young student raised his hand and asked about their collars. "Santa Maria," she mumbled. "Porque son estupidos? Why are they stupid?" She would have loved to explain it to them, but she knew how Program Leaders loved to bask in the glory of the moment- if you could even call it that. And so she was condemned to wait quietly as these school children tried to comprehend what had already defined itself in her life.