"Wake up." Kailey could hear her mother's brisk voice. It's time she was off to school.
"Coming." She shoved her comforter off.
"You have to go, now. There's only 10 minutes left." Kailey sighed. Her mother was tough. That's what the procedure does. It makes you, cold and heartless. But it also makes you hurt less. It makes you OK. That's the amazing thing the DFA does for us. It spares us the pain. Kailey couldn't wait to get her procedure. She changed into her school uniform. The procedure could make her happy. It would get rid of her fears. It would get rid of her doubts. It would get rid of her shudders, every time she saw her dog get kicked, or her baby sister silenced when she was crying. And finally, it would get rid of the giant question crawling through her mind, eating up her faith. When is it time to start questioning? Never!
It will never be time to start questioning. It would never be time to stop believing. Marlin came wagging his tail up to me. He was a black lab. The beautiful creature's pelt glowed from her shampoo, but her eyes were dull. A tear slid down Kailey's cheek. She touched the dog. This dog had been through a lot of torture. Kailey's family lived their uncle, her dad's brother. He was harsh, too. It seemed like Kailey's whole family was evil. No, not evil. Cured.
She thrust her brown hair into a ponytail, and put on her navy skirt, white top, and white socks, with navy stripes. She lived a minute's walk to school, so she didn't have to drive. It was November, and there was barely any leaves on trees. The remaining ones were brown and withered. "Kailey!" Kailey heard her friend Madison call.
"Hey!" Kailey called back. "Did you finish the math-assignment?"
"The algebra one?"
"I got that one."
"Are you ready for the test, on the book of shh."
So am I. Thought Kailey. How can anybody not be. They drill the book into our heads. They drill their ideas into your heads. I'm doing it again. Kailey noticed. Questioning. She couldn't stop herself. "Kailey?" Madison's voice drifted her thoughts back to reality.
"Are you OK?"