The Normals | ✓

T H I R T Y - T W O

A R D E N

My proper life starts the next day, which begins with a rude awakening brought to us by a Mask banging on our door. We get up and follow him into one of the buildings, where we approach a set of doors we hadn’t been through before. They’re thrown open and the sound of laughter and conversation spills into the hall as well as the smell of food. We go in, and I finally get a good look at the population of this intriguing facility.

The contrast between all of them hits me first. Then the contrast between them and the group of newbies standing at the door (myself included). They’re all shapes and sizes, heights and weights. While most of us are average height, weight, build. As I look around the room, I can tell which ones would have higher numbers, and which ones are just on the verge of being a novus. There are people who are so tall that their heads graze the top of the doorway as they pass through, and others that are so short I don’t even see them until people hop to the side, probably almost tripping on them. There are people who are a lot heavier-looking than I am, and people who look like they haven’t eaten a bite of food in their life. But there are also people who look like me, yet they don’t feel like me. They’re unusually expressive, or picking fights with everyone around them. For a moment I see two guys sitting in the middle of the room and I think they’re biting each other’s faces, but it turns out they’re actually kissing? And amidst all this chaos, there’s still some sense of unity amongst all of them. All of the outlaws, the abnormalities, the Differents -- they’ve all come together here.

There’s a push on my back and I’m snapped back into life, where I can’t just stand here -- I actually have to move. I follow Angelo to a small, empty table in the room and we sit down, waiting for instructions. It seems that most of the people around us don’t have any food in front of them so I’m guessing they haven’t eaten yet. Hopefully it’s that, instead of them being already done and leaving none for us.

After a few minutes, we’re joined by the girl Angelo had made friends with while we were still eating in the newbies room. She brings the person that was with her then, a young boy who looks about ten. They sit down with us and we exchange a few words, getting to know the young boy, but they mostly keep to themselves.

Like in the newbies room, a Mask gets everyone’s attention and proceeds to make some sort of speech. It’s similar to the first one. He says stuff about the Old Era and how without the Outbreak, we wouldn't have been blessed with the wisdom to make the resources we have today. He says how we should always be grateful for our food because people in the Old Era died so that we could have it.

“...And lastly, remember that every day, every meal, every action, means something,” he says. “But it’s up to you to decide what you want to make it mean. Will you work to make yourself a better person? Or will you keep the same old habits, the same defects, and spend the rest of your life miserably?”

“As if we have a life ahead of us to spend!” someone in the room yells. A ripple goes through the people seated at their tables, heads turning to see who spoke. It’s a somber-looking guy sitting in the middle of the room, the one I saw kissing someone else when we walked in. He’s leaning back in his chair, his arms crossed over his chest and an irritated look on his face. “Everyone knows you don’t care whether we actually get to have a life after this, you  just want us so that the population stays steady! So just let us have the same old food and run along to the same old lessons instead of lecturing us on a life you gave us,” he seethes, the irritated look on his face deepening.

The Mask bristles at the outburst but doesn’t reply. “That… that will be all for today,” he says faintly, waving his hand in the general direction of the room. “Go eat.”

Pretty much half the people in the room all jump up at once and bolt for the tables laid with food at the back of the room, but the Mask yells something over the rising chatter and everyone sits back down again. He makes us go up in groups, subduing the crowd a little by making them wait. Our table is called up near the beginning, and we shuffle along behind the others called up, not wanting to attract any attention from the Masks or from the guy that shouted at them. Once we’ve finished our food -- waffles and fresh fruit, with whipped cream and various sweet sauces -- we look for our first class of the day. They’re posted on large boards outside the dining hall, and were given to us yesterday as well. My first class is History, which isn’t Angelo’s. So we say goodbye, hoping to meet again during lunch or something.