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Fabulous. Micah already knew this book. She’d read it at her old school for AP English. Why then was she reading it again? That was not to say that she didn’t enjoy the book. The symbolism was rich in each paragraph, and the biblical and psychological references were not lost on her. Far from it, in fact, as she read of the two women, standing guard to hell as they wove their black wool. The ivory, even, fore shadowed the death of nearly everyone damned to this voyage into the unknown depths of human psyche. Micah knew the horror, though to a very small extent. She knew the symbols, and she knew the analogies. Why then, could she not simply write the paper now and get things over with? Would that not make things easier? She would not be snarky in class, she would not correct the students when they were wrong – even though there “were no wrong answers” which was a lie – and she would not act up out of sheer boredom.

All of these things she has thus presented to her teacher. And all of these things she had rejected. Listen to the other students, Micah, and you might learn something. There was nothing she could learn. They were all wrong anyway. The horror is not, despite what the “know it all” had said, death. The horror was the reality that all civilized mankind was a breath away from savagery. Why didn’t he know that? Why didn’t anyone? Furthermore, why was she shot down when she presented this – correct – answer? Angry with the memory, Micah slammed her book shut, ignoring the angry looks from the assistants. She didn’t give a damn. Impetuous child that she was, Micah sank back in her chair, grumbling incoherently to herself about the unfairness of everything. God, the sooner they could move on the sooner Micah would simmer down and behave. Until then, however, she would just have to continue being a brat. Maybe then she’d get sent out and she could do something productive.

Micah, lost in her brooding, was mild perturbed that someone would dare disturb her from her pouting. She was ready with an insult for a preemptive attack, but soon found that it was not necessary. Due to her general bitchiness, Micah didn't get very many kind words. For this reason, and she did get them on those off days, they kind of threw her off her game. Her golden eyes blinked several times as her mind groped for something to say that wasn't horribly mean. It always took a moment or two to switch from b***h to nice when the time came, and often had to beat up on someone to get rid of the excess aggression. Here, in this setting, there was no outlet for Micah to utilize.

Another moment passed and Micah was able to access her mind again. A smile spread easily across her lips, as more accustomed as she to beaming than scowling. She leaned back easily in her chair, lead falling back lazily. "Yeah well," she muttered, ignoring the hush of the librarians, "you might be the only one who thinks that way. I appreciate the sentiment, though." Another grin, brighter this time, as she kicked out a chair for the new girl, hopelessly male in almost all of her actions.

"Micah," she answered, holding out her hand. "And I doubt that. Regardless of merit of points, people tend to dislike bitchiness, which I seem to have in surplus, for some reason." She gave a wry laugh. She could probably do something about it, like... keep her tongue in check. Micah would probably never go to such lengths, however. After all, she was only weeding out the weak. Who wanted a friend who couldn't take a little ruthless teasing? Micah tossed her ruby curls over her shoulder at the thought, regarding this new girl happily. Besides, it was really nice to find a gem who can hold their own.

"That teacher is an idiot anyway," Micah said dismissively, waving her hand at the topic as if shooing it away. "It's good to know there's someone with half a brain in the class. Maybe we can team up and teach the numb skulls around us a thing or two." Micah had habituated herself to not notice the litany of insults that poured from her lips, always having spent her time around others as boyish and angry as she. "What about you? What do you think of the book?"

"1984! God I haven't read that since... sophomore year?" Micah leaned back, rubbing her eyes with a smile. "I never thought of them as zombies before... I suppose I can see where you'd get the idea of such a thing though. Maybe not in the traditional sense of the word, but definitely in some sense of it." Micah nodded in though, going over the book in her head, trying as best as she could to fill in the gaps her memory had left. "If I were to pick one zombie book, however, it would definitely be Madame Bovary, however. The sheer emotional detachment and Emma's blatant disregard for the life of those around her. She's essentially rotting from the inside out, the decay culminating in her actual death." This book was much fresher in her memory than 1984. "And it wasn't just Emma, Rodolphe was pretty dead inside as well. Though I wouldn't really classify him as 'zombie' really. Just as a giant p***k."

"And I mean," she began lightly, tapping her lip, "if my theory is correct, and Kurtz is to symbolize death, not just of the self, but of humanity, isn't the entire book just about zombie hunting? After all, the horror, and you agree with me, is that we are all a moment away from savagery. That's all zombies are if you take away the decay and violence. They're amoral animals. Kurtz is amoral, and those who worship him are the same way, acting in accordance with instinct and not rational, ethical thought." Micah rubbed her forehead. "Though if you use that loose interpretation of 'zombie' then most books are zombie books. Then, does that make zombies the horror? Are we all just zombies with rational thought?" Micah made a sound of disgust. "Too heavy. Wanna ditch the library and continue over ice cream? My treat?"

"Ice cream is always relevant," Micah said with a nod, swinging her wool pea coat on. "I read somewhere," she continued, flipping her rat's nest out from under her collar, "that eating cold food when you're cold warms you up. i can't seem to remember where." She only waved her hand, dismissing the topic. "I can't remember the logic behind the theory either. It much not have been that important." The grin that her face was so familiar with slid across her lips again. She loved to smile so much more than scowling. It was so much easier for her.

"I'm new to town," she chirped, once more ignoring the shushes from the librarians, "So I don't know... anything. I'll still buy, but you're going to have to get us to an ice cream shop. I have yet to find anything besides here and the school." Another bright smile as she spoke, tying the sash around her waist.

"Iowa," Micah said simply, holding the door open for Castille as they exited the library. The wind bit sharply at Micah's cheeks, causing her to pull her collar up around her neck. Fantastic, the wind would surely knot her hair. She'd have to spend about an hour trying the sort out the mess. Normally she would have wron a hat to avoid the bulk of the grief, but, in her haste to get out of the house, Micah had forgotten it in her room. She sighed, bending her head to try and counter act the knotting strands in vain. Micah hated wind. Wind was stupid. Wind tangled her hair.

Castille talking again made Micah look up, ruby locks straying into her eyes. "Nowhere special," she admitted with a small grin. "A suburb in Iowa. We moved here for a job opportunity my dad got." Another shrug. "Looks like we moved from one small town to another. Granted, our last home didn't have all of those wierd... rumors flying around. Monsters... aliens with strange costumes." Micah had asked herself multiple times before what everyone had meant when they spoke of the cities soldiers. Micah had never seen one herself, nor had she seen a monster. She wasn't really sure she wanted to. All Micah wanted to do was go to school, go to work, and go to bed. Survive her last year of high school so she could go back to Iowa for college and return to her friends.

"Regardless, I believe what I can see. If I can feel it and if I can touch it, then it's real." Another dismissal in a tone of finality. Micah was not one for delving deep into many issues. The raw emotion chafed her. Even the flare of her violent temper terrified her right up to the point where it fizzled out into nothing. This issue was no different. "There are rumors like that everywhere. People want there to be something out there besides just us so badly they force themselves to see things. It seems like an awful lot of space for just us, but on the other hand... what evidence is there to support the idea of life somewhere else?" Another shiver worked it way down Micah's spine, making her quake with chill. "Besides, it seems hardly a month can go by without some farmer getting bored and claiming aliens left crop circles in his field. With all those flat lands, Iowa is a breeding ground for 'visitations.'" Micah employed the use of bunny ears with her last word, rolling her eyes.

"However," she sighed, nestling down into her coat, "people didn't generally run around claiming to be aliens. In that sense Destiny City is different. But that's about the only way. The sun goes up and then it goes back down. It's got... seasons... the people are kind enough... it's pretty much the same. But then again every city is essentially the same."

Micah's eyes moved down the line of ice cream as she made her way to were Castille was pointing. Everything looked really good, despite the almost hospital-like sterility of the place. It was too bright, especially compared to the waning twilight of the outside world. Micah had to rub them as they got used to the light. Once they did her eyes were drawn to the ice cream cakes across the way. Alexij liked ice cream cakes. He loved them, as a matter of fact. She zeroed in on a cookies and cream cake, noting the price and making a mental note to buy it on her way out.

Castille's voice brought her back to reality. "It's like any religion, I suppose," Micah shrugged. "People want to believe in something bigger. A guiding, all powerful force, alien life. It's hard for people to believe that we are all there is." She stopped at Castille's side at last, considering a pink ice cream with blue confetti embedded within. "Like I said. It's a lot of space. How can we know anything about it? Especially when, like you said, we can't even see most of it. The question is," Micah looked up to poke at a statuette of an ice cream cone, "do they want to know about us as much as we want to know about them?"

The change of subject was followed easily, her own mind functioning on the same level. "Hooligans and weirdos make life interesting. And if the epitome of your town's shenanigans are people running around claiming to be aliens, then I'd consider you guys tame." She followed Castille's finger as she finished. "I see no reason we can't get big ones of both and just share." She shrugged again as she posed her plan.