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The girl who dreams on the back of a giant space turtle.
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((G046 - Isabel Ramirez, Start))

Isabel walked slowly towards the northwest cliffs, running the padlock that she had been given as a weapon across the chainlink fence as the sea roared against the jagged rocks below. The clinking and clanking of the padlock against the chain links was keeping her calm, even if it announced her presence to her classmates. She had woken up just an hour or two earlier, or at least she thought she did, she wasn't entirely sure of the exact time frame that she woke up. Isabel figured that most of her classmates would react with shock, sadness, and panic upon waking up in their dire circumstances. Isabel didn't care about that though, she had already gotten through all of that the second she woke up to her science teacher being executed.

No, Isabel, more than anything, was just angry.

Isabel had screamed in frustration when she woke up. She had spent her entire life up to this point doing exactly what her parents wanted her to, whatever she could do to make them happy so they wouldn't mistreat and punish her. She had barely been able to live a life of her own. All she had was the books she read in the one or two hours of peace she would get a day. Sometimes she wouldn't even get that. It was driving her mad, sometimes she didn't even sleep because of all the stress that she was experiencing. She was so excited that high school was drawing to a close; she finally had a chance to get away from her parents and start living her life the way that she wanted to, not the way they wanted her to.

All Isabel wanted was some control over her own life- over something. She always felt like she was just a passenger along for the ride, never the driver allowed to make her own decisions. She felt like vomiting.

But now any chance of Isabel having any control over her own life had been taken away from her. Now a group of terrorist extremists with no known goal had decided that she and her classmates were going to die in a deadly game, and the terrorists were going to force them to do it to themselves. She realistically had no chance of ever making it out. Someone was going to kill her, she might even kill herself. She was doomed the moment her class was picked to be the latest victims of survival of the fittest.

Isabel stopped her movements, the clanking of the padlock against the fence stopping with her. She pulled the sock that had formerly been on her left foot out of her bag and slid her padlock back into it. Not much of a weapon, but an improvised bludgeon was all she could manage with such a poor excuse for a "weapon" that the terrorists have given her to survive. She kept the key she had been given in her pocket. Perhaps she could stab someone's eye out with it if she needed to.

Isabel stopped when she heard a loud scream. Someone was shouting at the top of their lungs. Maybe they just woke up and were angry like her, maybe she had stumbled upon a kindred spirit. Or maybe she had just stumbled into a murder scene. Either way, against her better judgement, she kept trudging in the same direction she had been heading: towards the source of the noise. Her mind was blank as she listened in the direction of her movement. Two voices, talking. Probably not a murder scene then, unless it was two kids double teaming some poor schmuck. She kept walking, listening. The voices grew less indistinct as she approached. Eventually she rose above a hill crest and finally saw them. Clarice and Conrad. Isabel knew them, and she knew they were dating before all this happened. She also knew that they probably weren't too fond of her given her love of spreading rumors and verbally abusing her classmates.

Isabel froze, not knowing what to do, not knowing if she should just call out to them or stand her ground or run away. She had no idea how these two would react to seeing her. They were maybe ten meters away, it was really easy to see her. She swallowed the spit that had been building up in her mouth, not moving, not thinking. Only staring.
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The Calm Before the Storm · Northwest Cliffs