Post by blake on Apr 2, 2017 23:48:51 GMT
Octavia Blake
I don't want to survive. I want to live.
Octavia watched as the other kids paired off, quickly moving toward their friends. Normally they came in and sat here while the teacher Mr. Pike, explained to them how to make a fire, or cook food. Not many of them paid attention, but as this was the first school experience that Octavia ever had she wanted to learn. Bellamy had taught her what he knew, but he couldn't show her how to make fire, or what a real stick looked like--not without drawing too much attention to them.
She would watch him and try to remember how things were done. Why this was their only class, she wasn't sure, but she had learned to watch the faces of adults and know the unspoken. Her Mot--her mother had gotten this look on her face when she had to tell Octavia to do something. Bellamy got this look on his face when he had to make her get under the floor. Pike often had this . . . too serious face on. She wasn't sure what was happening, but she knew enough to know something was wrong.
O didn't move to pick a partner, or even look around. Either someone would brave it and come up and want to be her partner, and ask about hiding under the floor; or whoever was last would be paired off with her . . . and they'd ask that hated question about being under the floor. So instead of trying to head off what she knew was coming, she sat there silently, waiting to see who the unlucky person was that would have to be paired with her. Sometimes they would get paired with her and she could tell they thought her stupid. They would read aloud to her, or speak slower. But she showed them. She could read, write, and keep up. She had a damn good teacher after all.
