— Nancy Kwon (Nayeon) Y11 Mulchat —

10th Jan. 2017.

 

The light was shining bright. Everyone seemed to be working hard under the hot sun. No one seemed to be complaining about their work or the boredom given from it. No one could stop, unless they were dead. The ‘mindless’ thought about their lives and wanted to end it as fast as they could. That was the point of everything: although they deeply and desperately desired to stop their lives, no one had enough courage to actually put that into action. They all suffered, but they couldn’t suffer enough to actually commit something they didn’t want to take responsibility in. Then who else could?

 One day, a sudden noise came bursting through the door. Janeth, the youngest of all of them, came running out of her room. They all stared at her, their eyes turning, worried and excited about what was about to happen. She was clutching onto a small piece of paper. Her whole body was sweating hard and she was breathing roughly. Lucille came out and gave her a cup of water. She gulped down the glass and started to tell everyone the story.

 

 No one could believe her. The news was too shocking for those cuddled in the small group. Their excitement soon seized like wild fire. They yawned at her, taunted her for her immatureness, and teased her. They stopped listening to her, bored as ever. Janeth looked at everyone, shocked, and started screaming violently, as if in a fit. No one paid attention to her. She cried her last cry and ran up to her room back again, obviously displeased with everyone’s reaction.

 

“I’m going to prove it to you. Then you will believe me, no matter what!”

 

 The next day, she was found in the backyard, cold and lifeless. Her head was pierced with a long garden fork. The three spikes were coming out from the back of her head whilst she was lying flat on the ground. No one dared turn her body around. Her long golden hair was soaked with puce blood. The gush of blood was fluorescent, and it was tempting for those who had been living in the boredom for far too long. The blood formed claylike shapes around her head. Her hand held onto a sheet of paper. She held onto it so hard it was crumpled. Yet the others took it out of her hands and looked at it. It read:

 

“Target 1 gone. Who shall be next?”

 

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