Chapter 1- Three Days

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"In the middle of the night I woke in a sweat, I saw the man who killed my children just staring at me, with that sick grin on his face. I had never encountered anyone so sadistic, especially considering how young he was," the woman on the news shed a tear, and quickly wiped it away before continuing her story.

The one thing I dislike about the purge is it's opposing liberal propaganda. Nobody was stopping her from moving to Canada for a few days to protect her children, nobody opposed her investing in a new security system, so why does she get to complain when her children's deaths could have been so easily avoided?

I pick the remote off of the black marble kitchen table and switch off the news. In all honesty, I was sick about hearing debates on the purge. Have it, don't have it, I don't care. People will die either way. Just don't spend hours on pointless discussion and take up television time.

"Everything alright, sweetheart?" My mother asked cheerfully, setting down a bowl of cereal in front of me.

I smiled half heartedly and explained that I was fine. Ever since my school had suggested that I go to a counselling programme a year and a half ago, my mother had been on my case non stop. Don't get me wrong, I appreciate the sentiment, but I feel so claustrophobic with every "are you okay?".

I'm fine. Really, I am. Why would I lie to my own thoughts?

I look down at my crooked school tie and straighten it, I'll have to wear this uniform in group therapy (or 'group session time' as they have so politely changed it to) and I don't think I'll have the energy to change clothes. We've been having a lot more sessions recently, we always do around the purge season.
Our 'advisors' as we're meant to call them (they're really discount therapists who say they care more than they do) have arranged both individual and group sessions for everyone in the next three days. We were meant to have one yesterday, but it was so late notice that nobody bothered to turn up. They had given us 20 minutes until we were meant to have been there. Even though I could have easily gone, I decided to save myself the trouble.

I eat enough cereal until my mother is satisfied that I won't faint again and I begin my walk to school.

It felt like I had only just stepped out of the door when zoey came running up to me to say hello.

I trusted zoey, a lot , actually. She wouldn't hurt a fly, but she can be so naive sometimes. Especially when it comes to her boyfriend. I worry about her but there's only so much sympathy I can give to someone who refuses to deal with their own problems.

"Vale!" She squeals, hugging me. "You haven't been in school for two days, I've missed you," she informs me and we begging our walk together towards school.

"That's sweet of you zo, but I'm feeling better."

"So what was wrong anyway? You didn't return my texts about it.. I was getting pretty concerned." She looked towards the ground as she talked, worried about upsetting me.

"Stomach bug" I lied. "Sorry I didn't reply, I think I was about to but then I must've fell asleep and forgot about it." I replied, smiling. It's so strange how happy I always acted around zoey.

"What's going on with you?" I asked, changing the subject.

She immediately began telling me about her boyfriend and that's when I zoned out. I wouldn't be able to say if she was complaining or praising him, really. I had gotten so good at drifted away when in conversation with someone else.

I had started doing that during school, guess I might as well start now. I'm not going to remember a word the teachers say, but at least I can mentally skip these boring lessons.

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