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RagDoll (profile) wrote,
on 1-1-2003 at 8:02am
[11 |2002|05:40am]
[ mood | relaxed ]
[ music | Peter Gabriel-Signal To Noise ]

A quiet night, and my meetings for the next day were cancelled. My weekend begins, I guess. I hope. I've made plans with an old friend, J, to watch 'Peeping Tom' at my house. I have to show others this before I give it away. Tuesday, It's private time with me and S.

I'm calm with my job. I watched the same person who triggered me fall into the building not an hour ago, even more drunk than before. He could barely walk. It simply made me sad. Another person trying to destroy themselves. Reminds me, I have to talk to R. soon. (And if you're eavesdropping, R, I'm teasing! Call me!) I cancelled my meeting with my boss for this morning, I believe to go over my editied review. It was scheduled to occur after the morning meeting. since he canceled the morning meeting, I felt it behooved me to cancel the other.

Let me be straight on this. Every monday or so, we're called for a meeting at 7am. 1 hour after our shift ends. For me, that's also on my weekend. Recently, such meetings have been at 7:30 am. I can't envision waiting an hour or two for a meeting with no timeframe. So I called, saying that since the morning meeting was cancelled, I had things to take care of with S, and could we reschedule the meeting for Tuesday or Wednesday? I hope that's polite enough.

All I want to do is go to bed. I want to begin my 'weekend', clean up the place, and move on. I want to keep doing my job until I transfer, doing the best that I can. G says I'll transfer soon. Here's hoping the witch is right.

Got my writing assignment in at 4:30 am. It was tough. The goal was to write an argument where one member was silent, or that the reader could only hear one of the arguers. 500 words later, here was my attempt:


"I want a name."

Romuel stood at attention as she faced the desk. She tried her best to remain rigid, but her body still ached. To all appearances, she had only received the one cut beneath her eye. In time, the scar would heal. Nothing else showed. All she had to do was remain quiet and this would all pass.

The headmaster rose from his seat, holding a sheet of paper. Beside him was Romuelís guardian within Academy, Lady Caerien. Romuel dimly remembered her presence afterwards, as she was recovering and Miya was screaming. She could only stare at Caerienís placid face as the headmaster walked outside her vision, past her bandaged eye.

"In my examination, I found extensive bruises across the cadetís body," read the headmaster, his voice lowering. She could hear the rustle of paper shaking in his hands. "And injuries concurrent withÖ" He choked, unable to speak for a moment. "Give me his name, Cadet." His voice was a whisper, the shout buried under a trembling attempt at control. Romuel remained silent, focusing on the lady who had to have delivered the traitorous report. This could have been so easy. For all appearances, it looked like a fight had happened, nothing more. Romuel hated complications.

"This isnít honor, Cadet. This isnít some classroom brawl, or petty crime. This is a violation of Godís law. Someone has to be held accountable." This wasnít the dressing down that Romuel had expected. It was difficult for her to stand as it was, without waiting so long. It was becoming hard to listen to the headmaster, and she was so very tired.

"Your partner, Miya Kitsu, is going to be brought in shortly." He said, changing tactics. His voice became more measured. He held the goad of his office, a wooden rod with an iron core. It was a tool of discipline. He held it in his hand as if it contained all the solutions in world. "Even if she doesnít have the answers I need, I will punish her for failing to be by your side to protect you." Romuel tightened, taking in a breath. She had placed herself in this situation to protect Miya. Only Romuel had known of the danger to her partner and friend. And silence would protect her own honor. No one had to ever know. Secrets were the mortar that held Academy together. The headmaster had to understandÖ

"Someone will be punished!"

The headmaster began to beat the goad upon his desk, shattering the wood easily. Romuel bounced, trying to regain her stance as he savaged the furniture, splintering it into ruin. It seemed to Romuel that it was improper for the headmaster to be crying while he performed such a violent act. Lady Caerien held his shoulder when he was done. "I have a daughter her ageÖ" he mumbled, pointing to Romuel. His words were no longer angry but sorrowful, as Caerien held him, allowing the Rock of Academy to weep.

Romuel sighed. "Am I dismissed, sir?"


I'm really not pleased with this. And this isn't my self-hatred bleeding in. I'm not sure what's wrong with the piece, but it doesn't feel right. suggestions are appreciated.

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