I always repost crap on here that I don't want to. Gah, I'm terrible.

On Our Own P5 Chapter Two (I apologize for my terrible status of keeping up with this story) --- Dawn sunlight was whisking across the early morning plains. It seemed a peaceful morning for the Hellbent news which was doomed upon the night before. Comrads like it when citizens come early, though I try not to make it habit because I don't want them to expect of me and the others a lot. Sweating lightly already, though it hadn't even reached ten o'clock yet, I dreaded the hours that were to come. I moved quietly from the road toward the barbed wires that guarded the sides of the crop that face town. I placed one hand on a steady wooden post and the other on the twisted wire, ushering my self over with much momentum, avoiding the gate where Comrads, with harsh voices and cruel jokes stood, checking everyone up and down. I managed to avoid them, they don't mess with a farm child with two older brothers and an aggressive father from the oil patch. My long hair tumbled behind me, and with the band on my wrist I tied it back. Already I knew what the temperature of the day would be. Boiling hot with killer winds. I felt a whip slap across my back, which was already bubbling with blisters from the boiling sun. I bit back a cry and dug my rake deeper into the dirt. Cautiously taking a look around me and my fellow workers, I could see that many had fallen victim of the heat and had tumbled into the earth, few were being escorted out of the crop toward the hospital. Subconsciously, I wondered what was happening in the other mainlands, if something major was going on in one, something was happening in most others. But here, it was a deadly drought indeed. And it had only just begun.

On Our Own P4 Morning came too early. I didn't sleep well, and had just began to doze when I heard the dull buzz of my alarm, ringing into the silent air. Darkness still leached throughout my room, it was incredibly early but if I were to dress, feed the animals, and walk to work, I needed enough time to do it. Though it had been exceptionally warm, for being just the beginning of summer, when I threw off my blankets goosebumps covered my body, unprepared for the chilly air that surrounded me. Carefully stumbling about the space I slept in until my fingers found the chain to my light and pulled it to ignite a steady glow just bright enough for my eyes to adjust so I could gather clothes. Nagging at the back of my mind, were the recaps from the night previous; the large bolded letters, spelling out near doom for our region. Images of crops withering and crumpling haunted my vision, suddenly I couldn't move, just frozen in terror, shuddering. I'm finally snapped from my trance when my slams open, standing in the doorway is my father. I haven't seen him all week, he never gets up this early. Unless, of course, he only just got home. He leant against the way, something clearly on his mind, he cleared his throat and glanced up at up me, finally speaking. "Be careful today," he warned, "They'll be pushing harder, and they're going to try and get in your head, make you think it's okay to bring water from home to use on the crop." He eyes me, knowing how easily I fall when I shouldn't, "Don't listen, Brynnie, you know Comrads are users. Stay close to the boys, they'll be less tempted to throw threats your way then." He explained with his tough 'n rough tone, which only softened for his family. He met my eyes, making sure I fully understood what he was telling me. Of course I knew, I'd been in hot water with Comrads before, and I knew I could outsmart them and get away from them. I searched his expression for a moment, before I flew across the room and wrapped my arms around him. He smelt strongly of oil and grease and hard work, a smell that others would turn their noses up too, while I grew up with it, and found it more comforting than any cologne. "I'll be careful." I promised, breathing in his scent once more before letting go. I stood in there for a moment, watching as he disappeared down the hallway and into my parents room. I smiled subconsciously, returning to my small collection of clothing before changing and preparing for the day of hard labour I would be facing.

I Can't Clowns on the left of me, jokers to the right; and here I am. Stuck in the middle with you. My heart says one thing, my head says another. I'm split in half, and I can't make this decision.

On Our Own P3 As we neared the house, I parted from my brothers, each heading toward our field, where the cows are kept, while I moved down toward the barnyard, horses in the round pen. Entering the barn, I grabbed a large square bale and tossed it by the fence, slicing the twine in half with my pocketknife, an instrument I always carry with me-even though legally citizens aren't supposed to have weapons; but most of the Comrads in our town don't do much about it... So long as your weapon isn't a big gun. My horse stuck his nose through the space between the two wooden boards, lightly nudging me as a tossed each leaf of hay over the fence. I tried to do my chores quickly, the sooner they were done the more time you had alone to yourself(showering, family chats, playing around, the time is yours.) Luckily for most of the farmhouses, we have running water from a well, both hot and cold. We were allowed to keep the running water because we needed it to water our animals; though it was a hard bargain. The old wooden steps leading up to the houses deck creak, old and split from it's age. The door made an even worse nose as it groaned open, sliding across the hard wood floor. To my surprise, my brothers were already done their chores, and I could here the muttering of the voices on television. It must be just on the hour, which meant a new the broadcast would be playing. I new mum would be home soon, she was a nurse, earning this position because she worked at our local hospital much longer than any of the other nurses; while my father worked a night shift in the oil patches. She only worked till five-thirty, though our society mostly worked off of the placement of the sun and when it rose and fell, but on the rare occasion we time, elder time from long before the borders shut. Something that runs across the screen catches my eye; DEADLY DRY TEMPERATURES! EXTREME DEATH TOLL EXPECTED! This is bad. Especially for our territory, we're the province that produces oil and harvests crops. I mean, we have water from wells but those can dry up, and it's against the law to take water from the stream. We need our water to support our livestock, but the community needs water to irrigate the crops. And somehow or another, I kind of think they'll think of a way to get what they need.. • Revised the old version. Like it up for P4 before the end of the night!