Chapter 8: A Fictional Narrative

“Quite a friend you got there.” Sabra teased. “They left and now you’re all alone, if you know something, I’d suggest you speak now.”

“Why do we need to keep records? You kill us anyway,” I mumbled under my breath.

"You haven't done this in a long time huh?" Andrew said breaking her from her thoughts.

I came out the door with a hoodie, long shirt underneath and weird looking pants (‘kind’). You might be thinking ‘Wow, what a nice girl she is!’ No, actually

Wolf frowns. "All due respect, but we're not going to be able to help with that. We're soldiers, not spies."

Gabby could feel her head buzzing and her body tingling. The bottle of booze had worked its magic and if it where anyone else she'd want to make good use of such tingly feelings. But she couldn't go there, not with Alex, not when she knew what it would do to her heart. God she wanted him, she had for a very long time. Spent nights playing out what it would be like as her hands did the best they could to play his part. And afterward she'd hate herself for being so weak, for wanting him, and for worse needing him in her life.

“That’s what you signed up for,” Chloe exclaimed, frustration evident, “We are assassins. That’s what we do.”

“I have dabbled in certain forbidden rituals that have extended my life but that isn’t very interesting. What is interesting is, why you are here, aboard my ship, Travin?”

“Well can you at least tell me who you are?” I asked, becoming more annoyed.

My expression tensed as I struggled to mask my irritation, “Look, I don’t really want to get into this right now.”

"why do you care?" i spat, my voice a little louder now. i cannot believe her, god, why is she like this? "you never seem to give two shits - "

The year is 2129, ‘tis autumn on Earth and a freezing winter on colonial Mars. There are only 8 colonists remaining out of the 350 that arrived in 2089, 2 doctors, 3 scientists, and a family of 3 who narrowly escaped perish from the post-atmospheric Martian winter. Since their arrival 40 years ago, the average colonist age has gone up from 25 to 60, and there aren’t many young souls left to do the hard physical labor of cultivating crops from Earth. There also aren’t enough supplies left to replenish what was lost to the elements. Left with only 200 sols of food and water, the colonists are forced to either find a way to cultivate Martian food of their own or perish like the rest unfortunately have. Without means of communication with Earth, the colonists are stuck with their remaining

“Nope, it is nice to see somebody having a good time. No offense to your town, it’s very lovely but, um...”

I pressed my pale face against the window of the old Sacred Heart Hospital. It was a cold day in January, the month where nothing really happens, at least here. I looked out on the street to see the normal things, cars, kids, bikes, and the occasional waitress from the restaurants down stairs. Nothing unusual.

I spent the majority of seventh grade looking at the back of Ryan Caneda’s head and sighing wistfully. He had all the trademarks of the Myspace generation and I loved him for it. Admittedly, the way his shiny brown hair swooped over one eye like an Anime hero was what intrigued me at first, but I knew I was caught: hook, line and sinker by the way he radiated mall-bought tween angst from every pore of his being. All the Spencer’s Gifts and Hot Topic stores in the world could convince me less of his profound individualism. I often spent my allotted hour of Internet searching for, then copying and pasting song lyrics into my online profile in order to trumpet the depth and anguish of my troubled soul, hoping to impress him. I dyed my hair pink and purple to match my “edgy” new style of dress, one akin to Ryan’s ratty band t-shirts and tight jeans. I noted with quiet fascination that he sometimes smelled like weed and beer, which made me fall even deeper in love with him because how dangerous. It was safe to say that 99% of my actions and reactions during this time were based on what Ryan would think if he were there with me.