back, with some numbness

This is interesting. I'm feeling a bit numb now, not sure what I'm doing. I was caught with the cell phone, though I kept the little memory card out so the Child Welfare officers didn't know what I was doing with it. I was kept under observation, for how long I don't really know, and while they didn't give me any shots or pills, I felt like I was stuffed in the head with cotton the whole time. It's wearing off a bit now, but I won't be riding my bike until I'm sure I can keep it out of the ditch. I don't know if I had anything to do with it, but shortly after I was released back to my dorm, the press crew from Works Progress rolled up in two trucks to gather anyone who didn't have a valid job card. If I'd been inside, they'd probably have me on a road crew right now. That's where you go when you piss the jackboots off too many times. I ran to where I hid my bike, and rolled it along the side of the road as if I had a place to go... though I didn't. There wasn't much traffic on the old two-lane airport road, just the occasional patrol and weather-service truck. Eventually, I found myself at the old airport. It's only used for courier flights between the fenced Cities, and the bigger airport on the other side of the river takes everything else. The North Little Rock airport is now mostly a reclamation facility, and the only planes to land here, other than the courier, end up as part of the stacks of parts arranged between and along the old runways. I snuck into a few hangars, and found a few that hadn't been ransacked yet. It's hard to believe, but people used to fly these things for fun! I'm writing this on a little tablet computer I found in an airplane, plugged into a solar panel that fits under the windshield, still fully charged. I found some water and canned food in here, as well as a couch, but the power to the hangar has probably been out for a long time, as I can't even recognize what that stuff in the little fridge used to be. Between my light head and where I'm hiding, the world doesn't seem too real right now. There is a little activity on the airfield, especially when the dirty white courier plane lands, but otherwise there seem to be only three people on the field at any given time, old Mike the foreman, and two boys assigned to work the yard. I'm sure they must know about this hangar, so I haven't really changed anything. One thing I think I can say for sure, though, I don't think I'll be going back to the dorm. I wonder whether all those stories about Outside are true...

They found my computer. Typing this on an old cell phone with almost no battery. Lots of these in recycle piles, but I have to set up a new charging...

Pondering the future

The people in the Housing Authority have been awful tight lately with the morning roll call and bed checks at night. They've been saying it has to do with people from Outside coming in and either moving in for the free food and a roof, or taking away our citizens to work as slaves on the Outside. I've heard it both ways, but nobody seems to agree enough to be real solid. I need to find some tires for my bike, and I was thinking about riding out to the Perimeter to see the Fence. I went there once with a class group, and we got to meet the soldiers at a tower, and got a glimpse of what was out there. Looked like a lot of nothing to me, but there was one squatter camp not far away. They looked pretty miserable in there, too. Then they gave us cookies and loaded us back on the wagon to head back to the schoolhouse. It sure beat a normal school day, I'll say that.

Starting out

(Only time I'm going to mention this: it's blog fiction) So, I don't know where to start. Just got this computer running and have to keep my time on it short, as if I'm caught with it, I'll sure be sent off to a work crew. I never knew anyone sent up there to ever return, either. I have so much going on in my head and I just have to put it down. Curse my big sister for making sure I spell a hell of a lot better than anyone else in my class. Grammar, too. She says I'm not perfect, but she's glad she can understand what I write anyway. Also, if or when I'm picked up by WPA goons, there's a chance they'll put me to doing something clerical if they know I don't write or talk like the average City school grad. I don't know about that. Most of the desk warmers I've met aren't really all that sharp. But, back to this. I found an old laptop computer that had been tossed by one of our dorm admins, but I suspect she claimed it was worse off than it really was, so she'd get a new one. I snatched it out of the bin and learned what I could about it. I don't know much yet, but I'm getting there. I was able to do the same with my bicycle, and it's a lot harder to hide. I'm keeping this journal on a little card, so if anyone finds this computer they won't have my thoughts. I'm wondering whether there's a way to scramble this so only I can read it, but that's for the future. Also, if I seem a little flighty and wayward with my thoughts, Lisa tells me that it's a sign of me being really smart or something. I don't feel real smart, but I did like it when she said that. In the meantime, I'm keeping a few chits in my pocket, running errands and parcels for City employees and others. That way I can get some better food than what we're served in the EBT cafe.