Aaron Dethrage.
They hadn’t even made it half of a mile from the neighborhood when the bottom fell out of the ominous clouds above, sending the rain cascading down onto thirteen-year-old Jillian Bloom and her twelve-year-old sidekick in mischievousness, Warren Taylor. The lightning lit the entire bay area with tremendous streaks of daylight that were instantly followed by infinite night and the piercing crack of Mother Nature’s hand.
Warren already wanted to turn back, fearful of the certain and severe punishment that awaited him for sneaking out and, admittedly, rather afraid of the wolf-like howling in the gusting gales that swirled around them. Just then, Jillian let out a laugh, an explosive and maddening roar that unnerved Warren more than the storm’s fury ever could.
“Don’t you see,” she screamed, “we are free, Warren! No parents, no rules, This is what real freedom tastes like. Goddamn ₁, I just want to hold on to this, keep it forever, know it as mine.”
However, Warren didn’t share Jillian’s passion for this new world. In fact, all that was on his mind were dry cloths, a warm bed, and his mother’s shimmering goodnight smile.
₁ Jillian had recently discovered the taboo world of profanity and still paused before each utterance, like a child looking left-and-right before crossing the street.
Song to Come: Fake Empires - The National
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