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    The day drags on. I hate being unable to communicate with the others because we don't know if they're safe or not. I think they are. I hope they are, but nothing can be guaranteed anymore.

    I try to do little things to distract myself. Carl and I bring Judith on a short walk and I go back to my room to read a book afterwards. Once I'm bored with that, the senseless tasks begin. I start with cleaning out my pack until I'm scraping the crumbly remains of dried leaves and dust from the bottom, cleaning and sharpening my knife, and reorganizing my closet so that each article of clothing is in color order. My mind still can't settle itself, even after that, so I start cleaning my old pair of boots, wiping the crusted mud from the supple leather and fixing the ragged laces. I have a new pair of boots so don't really need them anymore, but I hate the idea of getting rid of them after all we had to go through together. Plus, I wouldn't mind having a backup pair.

    Around noon, Carol drops off a container of cookies for us. I thank her. She's gone before I even have the chance to say anything else.

    I find myself back in my room, trying to clean out the flask that had once belonged to my dad. That ends quickly when I realize that most of it is beyond repair due to the thick sleeve of rust covering it. I go back to my drawers and closet and throw all the clothes that don't fit me into a box to give back to Olivia later. For now, I set them in my closet until I have a chance to go see her. After finishing that task, I find myself scrubbing the wooden surfaces of the furniture around my room and wiping the dust that had formulated on my windows. None of this satisfies me.

    By late afternoon, I finally take the box over to the pantry. Olivia is there, working as always. I hand her the box, asking her if I can trade the items inside for things that will fit me. She accepts my offer and points me in the direction of the clothes. I take a smaller box from one of the shelves and set a few fresh flannels and sweaters inside. I also add a couple tank tops and T-shirts since it will be summer soon. I'll need to prepare.

    "Got everything you wanted?" Olivia asks from behind one of the shelves as she checks things off on her clipboard.

    "I think so," I say, racking my brain for anything else I might want. My eyes trail down the hall where I see the textbooks and spare school supplies that aren't stored in the school garage. I didn't get a chance to start school since we've gotten to Alexandria because it was shut down shortly after. With all the rebuilding that needed to happen after the herd got in, the teacher decided to call it an early summer and send the kids home. There's hardly any kids in the community anymore as it is. Carl, Mikey, Enid and I are the only ones our age. I barely even see Mikey anymore. He mostly keeps to himself nowadays. The others are a couple years younger.

    I haven't learned a single thing since my mom was insistent about teaching me back at the Atlanta camp. People had attempted to teach the kids at the prison, but it barely worked out. The math papers were easy and the English tended to be story times with Carol I would usually boycott. I didn't learn a thing from that. I have the education of a sixth grader despite the fact I should be starting ninth soon. The thought makes me feel stupid.

    "Do you think I could use some of those textbooks to . . . you know, catch up?" I ask Olivia. She looks up from her clipboard, pushing her glasses further up her nose.

    "Of course! Take what you want. Don't worry about returning them if you're using them." I nod, walking to the books and selecting a few. I take a basic math book and science book. I study the history ones, wondering if I should take any. What does history matter in a place where the world has done a complete one-eighty? Then again, if I want to be a part of the future that I'm hopeful will ensue here, I should probably read up on social concepts and the government. I pass on the reading and English books, deciding that I'm probably fine going without. The last thing I find is a Spanish textbook and small dictionary. I snatch it up immediately, thinking of my mom.

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