dear outsider

7/29/2019 Dear Outsider

1/22

DEAR

OUTSIDER

AUDRA

HOFACKER


2/22

2


3/22

Dear Outsider

Copyright 2012 by Audra F. HofackerAll rights reserved. No part of this book or any portionthereof

may be used or reproduced or used in any mannerwhatsoever

without written permission except in the case of brief

quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

For more information address Bob Young Raleigh, NC27609.

Printed in the United States of America

First Printing, 2012

ISBN 978-1-105-64162-6

Lulu Enterprises, Inc

123 Mesa Street

Raleigh, NC 27609

www.Lulu Books.com

3


4/22

First Edition

For Deeply Fascinated. You were

the one to take interest in my storyfrom

the start. My first fan; whom I shall

never forget.

4


5/22

5


6/22

6


7/22

Solitude is fine but you needsomeone to tell you that solitude is

fine.

Honor deBalzac

7


8/22

8


9/22

9


10/22

10


11/22

1. Juniper

11


12/22

I

t is happening again. I know it is. Their silver

vinyl suited arrogance is after me - tranquilizers

and all. But what did I do this time?

Something nips at my ankle as I stumbleunder the shaded canopy. I'm not at all familiarwith the mossiness of the ground. Hard concrete

and glass floors are what I'm used to back athome. Not that I have any idea where I am rightnow, anyways.

Frolicking amongst the wild is notsomething that's even remotely practical. Atleast, that's what I've been told all my life. Beingterrified of every leap I'm currently forced to

make is what I call impractical. Coordination wasnever much of an asset of mine though, no matterwhere I am.

A soft white hue, coming from the fullmoon, is my only source of light. It seems biggertonight. If I weren't running for my life right now,I'd reach out and try to grab it.

There is a sudden a spark in the distance. Alight at the end of a tunnel, so to speak. I furrowmy brows and strain my eyes to see what it is. Itis impossible to keep a steady focus when you'redodging tree roots and hissing snakes, but it'ssomething colorful. Something ambient. I think.

They're shouting at me now. In those

pixelated, harsh tones of theirs. Calling out some

12


13/22

sort of threat that I thankfully cannot hear. Myheart is about to jump out of my chest. I can feelmy pulse making its way up my throat. The fact

that I cannot hear them hopefully means that Iam putting enough distance between us. I knowI've got to run faster but the Chloroform isstarting to take its effect. This happens everytime, I should know better.

My lungs start to asphyxiate as I inhale theacidic gas that is now swallowing the air around

me. The thick mist is starting to coat my entirebody, making my legs get heavier and heavier.

Whatever stamina I had is starting todiminish. My sprint becomes a panicked powerwalk. And that walk becomes a lethal trudgethrough this never ending woodland.

They're getting closer now. Their thwarted

grunts have never been clearer. I can practicallyfeel their step on the back of my heals.

Click.

One of them gets the tranq out and ready togo. He's probably aiming it directly between myshoulder blades right now. They're always sodamn precise. But what's not to expect from a

half-human, half-robot, other than perfection.

It will only be a matter of minutes beforethey call for backup. They're going to try topacify whatever mishap that occurs, just like theyalways do. The mishap in this case just happensto be me. I don't know exactly what is it that Ihave done to set them off. I never know. It is

also unknown to me how I need stop them.

13


14/22

Otherwise, I would probably have done so a longtime ago. What I do know is that I'm starving. I'mexhausted. And quite frankly, I'm scared shitless.

All this thinking is doing absolutely no good.Not only is it clouding my thoughts, but it ispreventing my reflexes as I neglect to react to thegiant boulder that has suddenly appeared in frontof me. I skid to a halt. Not quick enough. Myarms manically waiving, sending leaves flying asmy feet backpedal into the green undergrowth.

The tiny bones in my wrists crack, breaking myfall.

This is usually where it stops. I inevitablyfall in some way because that is what I amsupposed to do. It's inescapable. Whateverimminent punishment they think I deserve will bethrust upon me soon enough.

The buzzing in my head is the only thing Ican hear. And I can thank the Chloroform forthat.

Today... tonight... yesterday... whatever youwant to call it, is different. Something tells me Ican make it farther. Venture into the unknown.

The colorful object makes its way into my vision

yet again. It is telling me I can do it. Rooting forme.

Keep going. You have to keep going.

As if someone is physically there, lifting meup from my armpits, I steadily stand. Slenderbranches and knobby tree trunks circle aroundme. Shaking the dizziness out of my head, I

regain focus, centering my eyes on that wonderful

14


15/22

light. The light which now seems closer thanever. Almost tangible.

Bracing myself for whatever might be out

there, I work my way out of the woods. Thebarren land I now stand in is much easier tomaneuver. The full moon is shining even brighterout here. It's the only friend I've got now.

Effortlessly, I make my way down the hill.The Chloroform is less saturated out on the field,making it ten times easier to breathe. I fill my

lungs with the fresh air, my wobbly legs pushingon. This hill is the only thing in between me andthat ambient light. I know it will not save me. Butsomething is dragging me toward it. And I've gotno other plan.

Get up, will you?

There is a jab to my left shoulder blade. Anunforgiving, relentless kind of jab that is justenough to stir me from my much-needed slumber.A heavy and congested breathing is coming fromthe left side of the room. It is becoming all themore clear as my senses start to gainconsciousness.

Dazed, I shift onto my side. I wince as

something sharp digs into my leg. Somehow, Ialways forget to avoid the spring that sticks out ofthe bottom corner of my mattress. My leg startsto drip blood from the small cut it made, justbelow the moon-shaped scar on my right calf. ButI am too tired to notice the stinging.

I was never much of the light sleeper type.

15


16/22

Still not awake enough for fullcomprehension quite yet, I barely make out thevoice that's to the left of me. The booming sound

becomes a part of my dream and I start to workmy way into reality. My eyes open slightly butthen flutter shut again. Either the room is dark ormy eyes were never open at all. They feel asheavy as the silicone doors of the WellnessBuilding. Slamming shut at promptly 12:00 PM -shutting everyone else out every Monday and

Thursday evening.

My sense of touch comes back to me and Irealize I am clutching the sheets of my bed. Iloosen my grip, and shake out the soreness of myhands. Now I become slightly more alert. Only

just enough to hear the rusted springs underneathmy mattress creak as I flop onto my stomach.

Boy, I would paint the McGonaghues' entirebarn three times over just for a new one. Or eventake Kai's chores down at the Grind for an entireyear. Maybe if I did both I could get a big enoughbed where my feet didnt hang off the edge, forthat matter. I hear myself scoff. Now I'm reallydreaming. Thats never going to happen. Notwith the budget my family was given by the

Paramount this year. You could consider melucky enough to even have the shuck mattress.

Come on, I need help at the Grind today,another punch but to my lower back this time.You know I dont like going there alone on dayslike these. There was a slight tug on my arm.

Those pudgy fingers could only come from one

person.

16


17/22

Now, I was fully awake and fully annoyed.Kai what did I tell you about waking me up? Ishout. A slight sting in my voice. The haziness of

my eyes don't stop me from glaring at him. Youknow I havent been getting much sleep lately.

That was no exaggeration. Every night forthe past week I have been woken up in the deadof dawn by some, undefinable noise. Not quiteWorld-War-III loud, more along the lines ofhammer-hitting-a-nail loud.

Anyways, the deafening racket is impossibleto ignore and I have absolutely no idea where itscoming from. It sounds as if someone is bashingtheir Restarter against a metal door. Which issomething I have seen and hopefully will neverhave to see again. But whatever or whomeveristhe owner to this noise, in my opinion however; is

incredibly rude for making such a disturbance inthe middle of the night. Not to mention the factthat nobody else seems to hear it, which makes itdouble as frustrating.

If it happens again tonight, I don't knowwhat I'll do. Either rip my ears out of my head, orstart making my own racket to bother everyoneelse. Both will suffice just fine, but I'm thinkingthe latter.

My eyes begin to adjust to being awake. Ican start to make out the tall, lanky figure thathas now become my little brother Kai. He istwelve years old, and sprouting like a Beezle. I'lladmit it, I'm quite jealous. It's hard not to bewhen you fall short about three inches whilestanding next to him, and you're five years older.

17


18/22

Well sorry! Kai's hands are waivingaround - something they always do when he'sangry. His tone goes from raged to a soft hiss as

he tries to mollify. "But jeeze Ive been trying toget you up for like twenty minutes now!"

It took a while for Kais words to sink in.Suddenly I realize.

Shank.

What time is it? I shoot strait up.

Paying no attention to my brothers answer,I tumble out of bed sending sheets and pillows inall directions. My feet spring to the floor makingfloorboards creak - adding to the racket.

Im going to be late for Instruction! Ispastically grab my not-so-clean uniform off of thefloor. Kai get out, I need to get dressed!

Crossing my arms, I impatiently wait for mylittle pest of a brother to get up. What puzzles meis that I receive no reaction from him whatsoever.

Just as I am about to pick him up and carryhim out by his shirt, he spits out, Jun, didnt youhear me?"

I stand there stupidly trying to remember

what he had said only moments ago. But mybrain was too occupied with the thought of beinglate to class for the second time this week.

"The clocks are off, he tries to clarify.

I let my shoulders relax a bit as I registerwhat Kai had just said. My focus then darts to thealarm clock on my dresser.

18


19/22

It's blank.

The clocks are off. Looking outside my onlywindow I can tell that the sun hasnt been turned

on yet either. Not that it would be. And thatcould only mean one thing.

Now I am awake.

19


20/22

2. BennettS

ometimes, I find it hard to understand how a

single person could impact ones live so

significantly. And I dont mean in a good way. I

get that putting me on a tight leash is supposed

to help me and all. But the whole following-the-

rules thing was never much of a forte of mine,

anyway. So at least Im consistent. Right?

This was the speech that I gave to my uncle theday he decided to completely ruin my short-livedteenage life. It was the speech that I for sure

thought would get me out of trouble this time.And it was the speech that landed me a dormitoryat Havergale Academy for Boys. Or as I like tocall it; Havergale Hell-Hole for Stuck-UpSchmucks. And just Hellgale for short.

I think Ill spare you the details of what I didto cause my uncle to make such an impulsive

decision. Just know, that I dont regret it one bit.

20


21/22

3. Juniper

O

nce it hit me, I immediately

Today is a Black Day. The sun did not rise atdawn, there will be no Instruction this afternoon,and there will be no Programme later tonight. Ido not have to say my Supplication today. I donot have to follow any Schedule. And I do nothave to see of, speak of, or hear of the number

three.There are a total of five Black Days in every year.Nobody knows when it is going to be a Black Dayuntil its here. It is no mystery, however; as towhy they are referred to as black. According tothe Paramount, Black Days do not exist. They donot exist because they ruin the Paramounts sick

obsession with perfection. Without these five

21


22/22

days; there would be exactly twelve monthsconsisting of thirty days in the calendar year.

Both twelve and thirty are equally divisible by

three. Anything that is three, is divisible by three,or is the product of three is considered acceptableby the Paramount. All citizens of Bolair areexpected to hate these five Black Days. But Imfinding it harder and harder to do so.

22

dear outsider

Documents