Alligators
Author: IIAutophobia

Chapter 3
Ninth Years

Looking into the mirror, Whit saw his basic self. All the people of Artemisia had black hair and tan skin. Odds were different, though. They had varieties of skin color and hair color and eye color. The Artemisians all had brown eyes. The Odds's height ranged as well, while the Artemisians were all five feet tall and seven inches when fully grown, not even shrinking an inch when they were older. The tallest Odd Whit had ever seen was more than six foot.

The guy was like a tower, and it was really hard not to point him out in the street. Children clung to their parents as the Odd walked through the street with a shorter, brunette girl Odd at his side. He could have fit into the town easily if it wasn't for his height.

And the girl beside him, Whit thought to himself the day he encountered the Odds.

After noting his appearance in the mirror, Whit quickly grabbed his bag and ran down the apartment building's stairs. Checking a small circle attached to his wrist with leather, through the glass shown a sun with a deep orange color. The item itself had no name.

"Crap, I'm late." He mumbled, now running down the gloomy and old streets, passing many gangs beating up Odds in alleys or kids smoking on corners. This was usual in Artemisia, as more Odds seemed to be showing up.

Whit was fourteen now.

Living in an apartment with only his mom was hard because of money problems, especially since Artemisia was in debt, trying to figure out where to put the upcoming Odds. News had been spreading around the whole city constantly, mentioning Odds landing on the shores of the city in small boats, refusing to answer the medical support crew's questions out of fear or not remembering a single detail.

Some information wasn't even released.

"Where do they make the Odds go when they show up on shore?" Eight year old Whit had asked his mother one day.

"I don't know, sweetie."

"Where did they come from?" He was ten when he had asked that question.

"I'm not sure, Whit."

"What are they afraid of?" Thirteen.

"I don't know."

And that was the end of Whit's questions. His mother would take no more; some things were just unknown and unspoken. That was that.

Turning one more corner, he found an old building that looked just like all the others around him. The school was part of a small old skyscraper but most of the floors of the school were closed due to unstable floors or ceilings or even broken windows.

Whit walked into the school and walked upstairs to his classroom; his first day of ninth year. In the classroom he recognized a few people, but the first person that caught his eye was a girl sitting in the back of the class.

A girl with hair of fire.

 

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