[center][b][u][color=silver][h3]Dizzy[/h3][/color][/u][/b][/center]


[center]No one raised much of a fuss when Dizzy was taken, least of all Dizzy herself. The ones she was...fortunate...enough to have crossed the waters with had long since written her off as either a gloomy child or a child of ill fortune - as if luck had any factor these days. But when one is forced to watch their only loved ones snatched into the cold, murky depths with no warning...grief quickly turns into blaming anything other than fate. Dizzy would not have been surprised if people celebrated when she was taken. Amongst the small circle of survivors that she had, by virtue of having nowhere else to sleep, settled in with she was far and away the least liked. Perhaps, Dizzy thought, they didn't enjoy hearing how their struggle to survive was, as she so eloquently put it, 'throwing a cup of water on a raging wildfire'.

No one raised much of a fuss when Dizzy was taken, because for those that knew her this was a win-win. Either she failed and was most likely sent to her death...or she passed....and was most likely sent to her death. Either way, the aura of negativity was out of the picture and someone else's problem now. 

Dizzy didn't speak through the car ride and the only sounds she made during the invasive and far too thorough exams was the wincing of pain whenever their needles pierced the skin or their tools became more than just a little too friendly for anyone's liking. At one point as they were shuffled along like livestock, a gaggle of girls near her whispered about 'the ghost girl' and, given Dizzy's eerily pale complexion and contrasting dark hair...she figured it was a remark aimed at her. Dizzy never saw them again and that was the first thing that made her smile, more of a soft grin really, in years. How lucky they were, shuffled off the mortal coil, cast out like stones...rejects. 

Everyone would join them soon enough. Time had long since run out.

When Dizzy was shuffled along into a lecture hall, her first reaction was to blink. Was this it? There were far more when the testing was beginning...and there were far fewer now. For a flash she envied them. They now understood the truth as Dizzy saw it. Her second reaction wasn't to sit, but rather to turn, to walk, and to stand in front of one of the armed guards. 

[color=silver]"My clip."[/color] Dizzy stated, her voice almost robotic in its tone. [color=silver]"Where is it?"[/color] During their testing Dizzy's hairclip was taken after a struggle that ended when the back of a hand made an impression on Dizzy's cheek (the red mark on her face being what led to the missing girls' comments about the 'ghost girl' to begin with). Her head throbbed when the hairclip was taken from her and it continued to throb even now. Annoying, to be sure, but what else could she do? [color=silver]"Give it bac-"[/color] Dizzy's demand was not met as she was shoved back to line, tumbling onto her rear. 

Dizzy didn't approach the guards a second time, but she would remember the feeling of being ignored...it was all too familiar anyway. And with nothing else she could do at present, the conversation about temperature between two girls that would likely be dead within a week or so - if they were lucky - passed into her ears and out of it just as quickly. Dizzy merely made her way to an empty chair and sat down, head throbbing, rump stinging, and what little pride she still had slowly chipping away.[/center]