The Shearing

Five

After consecutive failed attempts, I bat the futile tin can they call "printer." I've already brought this twisted machine in the repair shop a few weeks back, and yet now it still acts as though it hasn't been modified yet. I certainly regret the five hundred bucks I've sacrificed for this printer machine.

"So hows it going? Are you hired?" Oakley asks, a smile etches on her lips; I square my shoulders and amble back to my seat.

"Derry–Malt? Yeah. Actually, tomorrow's going to be my first day, and the manager invites me to a welcoming session. I said yes, though I really think it stinks," I say irritatingly as I smother my hair; Oakley chuckles from the glass laptop's screen.

"Why's that?" she asks, her finger twirling her now bright crimson locks.

"God, Oaky, I've been through a lot of welcoming sessions for who knows how long through my sickened high school days," I jeer and roll my eyes.

"You still haven't learned how to be human, have you, Burnt?" she teases.

"It's Byrne." My voice turns flat.

"Byrne, please be careful out there." Oakley's voice suddenly peters to seriousness as she sighs. "You sure don't want to work as a clerk in Cogtech Company instead? You know, if there's any company offering the safest environment away from the authority's reach, it's Cogtech. Besides, it's just one city away. You've already earned your advance approval back when you were ten. Maybe now's really the time to seize that opportunity," Oakley adds.

"I don't want to watch people get killed, Oaky, and it's not away from authority's reach, they just trust it so dearly that they don't even mind at all, and I'm sick of the government," I say.

Cogtech, the company appointed by the government to gather all those who've been subjected to The Shearing for their impending doom. It's the worst kind of job one could ever think of. I can't bear to just seat in a comfy office arranging the "Kill Queue" while the subjected innocents beyond my door await their deaths. Albeit working in the said company, indeed, offers a safe haven from the government's watchful eyes, knowing that they trust it completely. I still can't picture myself working there, halfheartedly donning their cream-white signature uniform dress embellished with their eagle logo from which they take pride.

In Oakley's defense, there's nothing else that matters to her the most other than my safety just as how I want her to be safe all the time, but I can't just quickly compromise my happiness for an unassured safety; I can't simply rush to it halfcocked knowing fully well that working there is synonymous to being in dangerously close proximity with the government; I have yet to know that place.

"I'm only suggesting what's best for you," Oakley mutters, her expression falls down.

"Well, tell you what, it's not. I can take care of myself, Oakley, stop worrying about me so much. Nothing could possibly go wrong in a nearly run-down grocery store. Plus, it's only a twenty minute walk from home." Oakley still doesn't seem pleased with my words.

"You're in Creed Holme, Burnt. You know very well that it's notorious for its criminal rates," Oakley says.

"It's Byrne, and I know that fact. It's not like I'm always getting my ass off of this house, Oaky. And, besides, Cogtech's in Carson city. Though one city away, the city in between—Belmot—is even far worse than Creed Holme. Do you want me to pass by that city everyday?" I protest.

"Cogtech has dormitories."

"Oh, and then what? I'll leave this house to get ransacked by the wanted thugs of Creed Holme? No thank you." Oakley finally sags at my retort, and I think I just win the argument.