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Post by frankie on Nov 4, 2011 6:09:04 GMT -5
Originally I wanted to make this a RP for gifted children on neo hehe, truth is though your character would not be gifted just crazy xD.
So I've been working on this story for writers craft about a world where there is no racism or genderism, because people are judged by their minds and not by what they look like.
So when a child is born with mental disabilities they consider it a walking vegetable, and either kill it shortly after birth or see if the brain can repair itself and if not, they are exterminated.
This is done by sending them to this place called the perfecting schools, the parents sign their child's life away and the children are put into these classrooms with no windows. The teachers leave the classes and the rooms fill with deadly C2 gas which suffocates the children all at once.
So here's the story:
They locked the school early that day, so no one could leave.
There was an announcement over the microphone, “Teacher’s please exit your classrooms now and come to the main Foyer.”
Ms. Hanson got up from her seat, today’s class was another silent work period, even though it’s always a silent work period. I still remember when they let us go to the normal schools and we had homework and assignments. I even missed the homework now. Ms. Hanson pauses before she leaves to speak with us, though we all know she doesn’t want to, because normally the teachers don’t have to speak with the students.
“ I’ll be right back children, just make yourselves comfortable.”
No one says anything, and she nods her head approvingly.
I don’t like the other kids, they laugh even when there is nothing is funny to laugh at.
The teachers have been gone for a while now, I decided to write a letter I didn’t know why my mind was getting kind of fuzzy. Maybe it was all those drugs they had been giving us to make us right, I don’t know.
I knew I had to write this letter though, I had to write this letter because if I didn’t then things just wouldn’t sit right anymore. I was a little scared to start, but I saw in my mind the pictures of the things I wanted to put into words.
‘Dear Mom and Dad,’
‘I’m sorry I threw a chair at Hailey, and tried to strangle her. I know you love her the most, and I wasn’t right to do those things’
My mind started to trail off, I couldn’t keep focus, I just kept thinking about how Hailey was in the hospital bed, and dad said I couldn’t come in to see her even though I was sorry. He said because of what I was, I wasn’t allowed to say it, because I wouldn’t understand in my mind what the words meant, that mom and him just wanted me to stay away.
I remembered when Hailey was born, and my mom told me I had to take care of her, I had to make sure nobody hurt her.
Even though my mom didn’t have time for me anymore, I didn’t mind so much.
When we went shopping Hailey would wonder off sometimes and I would follow her to make sure she wouldn’t be stolen like on TV. My mom was extra worried about Hailey because there are not a lot of kids who aren’t sick these days.
My mom and dad loved Hailey so much, sometimes I think that’s what made her go wrong inside. The doctor got it wrong you see, the medicine wasn’t making me better, it was making me worse.
When Hailey would bring her friends over she would tell them things and they would laugh at me, or whenever I made mistakes she would tell my dad and he would hit me some more, and Hailey would laugh and mom didn’t know.
Hailey and I started fighting more, and she fell down. She didn’t seem right, she wouldn’t get up, even though I told her she would be in trouble, even though normally she doesn’t want me to touch her because I’m sick.
I put her back on the couch so she could watch TV with me. She was quite, I know because I was watching cartoons and she never liked cartoons, and we’d always fight, but now she was quite.
My parents came home late that night.
The Lawyers said I couldn’t understand what I did, but I understood… Hailey wasn’t coming back home anymore.
I wonder though if my parents were as happy when I was born, whether my mother cried when the doctors told her I was born wrong, or if she blamed my father or if he blamed her. Our relatives all gathering around some in pity and others in disdainful fascination at the abomination they beheld, all in secret anticipation of what was to come, biting their fingernails through tear filled eyes. It would be decided right then whether I was going to be put out of my misery.
There was nothing wrong with me physically. It was what was inside my head that was the problem.
“It’s nobody’s fault, sometimes there’s just a bad batch is all, these things just happen.” The doctor said, “If we could prevent them, we would. Your boy still has a chance, sometimes these things just fix themselves…with the right medication.”
Here my mother would cry again and my father would hold her without saying anything so his voice wouldn’t break.
Sometimes they left me home alone to visit Hailey in the gifted school. They said I couldn’t come because I might forget to take my medicine, they said I couldn’t come a lot.
My nurse would tell me not to worry because they just didn’t want anyone else knowing their son was special. She made me feel bad, so I slapped her in the mouth and it got cut and her lip was bleeding and I was glad because she looked at me with an expression that was the closest thing to respect I would ever see. My dad was always saying we were a good family and he wouldn’t have no one disrespecting our home.
When my dad came home he broke my arm. I told the doctors what he did, but they didn’t say anything.
It was times like these that I would sometimes think they loved Hailey more.
So I've been working on this story for writers craft about a world where there is no racism or genderism, because people are judged by their minds and not by what they look like.
So when a child is born with mental disabilities they consider it a walking vegetable, and either kill it shortly after birth or see if the brain can repair itself and if not, they are exterminated.
This is done by sending them to this place called the perfecting schools, the parents sign their child's life away and the children are put into these classrooms with no windows. The teachers leave the classes and the rooms fill with deadly C2 gas which suffocates the children all at once.
So here's the story:
They locked the school early that day, so no one could leave.
There was an announcement over the microphone, “Teacher’s please exit your classrooms now and come to the main Foyer.”
Ms. Hanson got up from her seat, today’s class was another silent work period, even though it’s always a silent work period. I still remember when they let us go to the normal schools and we had homework and assignments. I even missed the homework now. Ms. Hanson pauses before she leaves to speak with us, though we all know she doesn’t want to, because normally the teachers don’t have to speak with the students.
“ I’ll be right back children, just make yourselves comfortable.”
No one says anything, and she nods her head approvingly.
I don’t like the other kids, they laugh even when there is nothing is funny to laugh at.
The teachers have been gone for a while now, I decided to write a letter I didn’t know why my mind was getting kind of fuzzy. Maybe it was all those drugs they had been giving us to make us right, I don’t know.
I knew I had to write this letter though, I had to write this letter because if I didn’t then things just wouldn’t sit right anymore. I was a little scared to start, but I saw in my mind the pictures of the things I wanted to put into words.
‘Dear Mom and Dad,’
‘I’m sorry I threw a chair at Hailey, and tried to strangle her. I know you love her the most, and I wasn’t right to do those things’
My mind started to trail off, I couldn’t keep focus, I just kept thinking about how Hailey was in the hospital bed, and dad said I couldn’t come in to see her even though I was sorry. He said because of what I was, I wasn’t allowed to say it, because I wouldn’t understand in my mind what the words meant, that mom and him just wanted me to stay away.
I remembered when Hailey was born, and my mom told me I had to take care of her, I had to make sure nobody hurt her.
Even though my mom didn’t have time for me anymore, I didn’t mind so much.
When we went shopping Hailey would wonder off sometimes and I would follow her to make sure she wouldn’t be stolen like on TV. My mom was extra worried about Hailey because there are not a lot of kids who aren’t sick these days.
My mom and dad loved Hailey so much, sometimes I think that’s what made her go wrong inside. The doctor got it wrong you see, the medicine wasn’t making me better, it was making me worse.
When Hailey would bring her friends over she would tell them things and they would laugh at me, or whenever I made mistakes she would tell my dad and he would hit me some more, and Hailey would laugh and mom didn’t know.
Hailey and I started fighting more, and she fell down. She didn’t seem right, she wouldn’t get up, even though I told her she would be in trouble, even though normally she doesn’t want me to touch her because I’m sick.
I put her back on the couch so she could watch TV with me. She was quite, I know because I was watching cartoons and she never liked cartoons, and we’d always fight, but now she was quite.
My parents came home late that night.
The Lawyers said I couldn’t understand what I did, but I understood… Hailey wasn’t coming back home anymore.
I wonder though if my parents were as happy when I was born, whether my mother cried when the doctors told her I was born wrong, or if she blamed my father or if he blamed her. Our relatives all gathering around some in pity and others in disdainful fascination at the abomination they beheld, all in secret anticipation of what was to come, biting their fingernails through tear filled eyes. It would be decided right then whether I was going to be put out of my misery.
There was nothing wrong with me physically. It was what was inside my head that was the problem.
“It’s nobody’s fault, sometimes there’s just a bad batch is all, these things just happen.” The doctor said, “If we could prevent them, we would. Your boy still has a chance, sometimes these things just fix themselves…with the right medication.”
Here my mother would cry again and my father would hold her without saying anything so his voice wouldn’t break.
Sometimes they left me home alone to visit Hailey in the gifted school. They said I couldn’t come because I might forget to take my medicine, they said I couldn’t come a lot.
My nurse would tell me not to worry because they just didn’t want anyone else knowing their son was special. She made me feel bad, so I slapped her in the mouth and it got cut and her lip was bleeding and I was glad because she looked at me with an expression that was the closest thing to respect I would ever see. My dad was always saying we were a good family and he wouldn’t have no one disrespecting our home.
When my dad came home he broke my arm. I told the doctors what he did, but they didn’t say anything.
It was times like these that I would sometimes think they loved Hailey more.