Population Control

Jason V

Vorfreude – The joyful anticipation that comes from imagining future pleasures

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Awkwardly, we all stood at the back of the class. Every girl had on a dress, except Camille who wore her own clothes (a pair of ripped, black jeans and a blue shirt that had no sleeves), and all the guys were in flannel shirts and jeans. Everyone turned to look at us, some smiling. "Do we introduce ourselves?" Whispered Camille.

"No!" Hissed Sami.

"The teacher normally does that." I muttered. However, it seems Dylan was not listening to this conversation. Taking a step forward from us, he smiled and waved at everyone. How can someone have so much confidence? Even before the Epidemic, he was talkative, happy, and comical. He was one of those people that everyone was OK with.

"Mornin' miss." He said, "Sorry for interrupting, I'm Dylan." He flicked his long hair – must admit, it was attractive – and a person scoffed. His eyes zoned in on them. They had their dark hair in a ponytail and purple eyeshadow above their brown eyes. Camille will be happy to know they have make-up here.

"Quill." Snapped the teacher, looking at them with a disappointed face.

Quill rolled their eyes and faced the front again. "Good morning to you, too, Dylan." Smiled Miss Evans. Everyone was so smiley. "If you would all like to take a seat?"

Sami went behind me, looking at the floor. It's like being back in a classroom encases him in his shell again. Cautiously, we took a seat each and Miss Evans rummaged in a draw for something. She pulled out an old, toy rabbit. Its fur didn't look clean and its ear was half-chewed off. I was not touching that thing. The person that scoffed when Dylan introduced himself let out a laugh. "Quill, I won't tell you again." Miss Evans turned to us four now. "When you have this, I want you to tell me something interesting about you. Why you're here. What your story is." Awkwardly, like this was the first time she threw something in her life, she chucked it to Camille. Thank God it wasn't me, I'd rather burn it than catch it.

"I..." She drew out, looking anywhere but at people, "like music." That drew a faint laugh from people, and I glared at some of them that did, "We were in a service station before being knocked out and brought here."

She looked at Miss Evans for, most likely, permission to pass on the disgusting teddy, "What's your story, dear?"

"What?"

"Your story. How you're here, what happened to make you leave?"

She blushed, and I knew we'd all have to answer this as well. Oh, I hope Sami and Dylan will be OK. Quill stared at us in curiosity. "My mom," 'Camille slowly began. If there wasn't space between our two desks I'd grab her hand, hoping to ground her. Trying to make eye contact, and when we did, I mouthed 'breathe', and she calmed slightly. "She worked for the NHS, and on her way home she..." There was a silence, a respect for someone fallen, "And my dad lives in a different city, so that wasn't an option."

Miss Evan told her to pass it on to me. Knowing I was not going to touch it and rolling her eyes at my obvious distaste, she stood up and placed it on the table. "I know a lot about names." I muttered, not having much interesting about myself to say. I can't say I'm intelligent, or that I liked school, or that my favourite food was steak (we had a T-bone steak every Saturday. On Sunday it was Charlie's favourite: King salmon). "Camille answered the 'why are you here' question, so I'll skip to the other one. My parents-" I can't say I locked them in, if I do then there will be many, many follow-up questions I am not willing to answer without a lawyer, "-locked themselves in a safe house. I called Sami and Camille, and then I was staying at his for a bit." Next was Sami, and Miss Evans tried two times to get his attention, but his eyes were strained on his hands in his lap, messing with them. I knew this wouldn't go down well. Digesting my absolute hatred for the bunny, I weakly grabbed its arm. "Sami... he's observant, and caring. He took us all into his house even though we've never been friends. Unfortunately," I looked at him, and he was shaking. "Unfortunately, his parents didn't come back one time before their house was looted and we were forced to leave."