[hr][center][img]http://txt-dynamic.static.1001fonts.net/txt/dHRmLjgwLjgwYTlkMS5RVzVrY21WaElGQmhjM1JsY201aFkycywuMAAA/ruthie.regular.png[/img]

[img]https://i.imgur.com/MzIHaGw.png[/img][/center][code]Grand Ridge - Outside[/code][hr]

If there was anything that could be said about Grand Ridge, it was, despite it's prestige, far more relaxed than the likes of other universities such as Yale. This academy was a bit less stringent and bit more flexible with class scheduling – and if there was anything that Andrea learned from her first attempt, it was that you never signed up for early morning classes. Not if you wanted to get a good night's sleep and actually be able to [i]function[/i] that day. Andrea was instead able to use that time to take it slow and get ready for the day. A leisurely breakfast, an easy jog around campus, take a quick shower, and do some light reading back in her dorm over a cup of french-pressed coffee with the pumpkin spice creamer she kept in the mini-fridge... and most of the students were either in class or just waking up. There was something to be said about keeping a good schedule. Mom taught her that.

The only difference now is that her light reading normally comprised of actual, good literature. Long gone are the days of binging on the [i]Guardians of the Flame[/i] series, or Dorota Masłowska's [i]Snow White and the Russian Red[/i]. Oh, and Stanisław Lem's [i]The Star Diaries[/i]! Good times, good times... but now? A collection of online newspapers, new and old, dating all the way back to the Great Depression era. She didn't realize it before, but Farmer's Hill has, ah... something of a problem, if you will. People living here had the nasty habit of dropping like flies and going missing like hair bands. She didn't mean to reduce all the tragedies to a handful of similes and idioms, but one would think that people would stop for a second and notice the statistics and try to solve the problem. For whatever reason, Farmer's Hill somehow fell off that radar and the people in the town refuse to talk about it.

Honestly, it felt like a live rendition of Silent Hill. Ever since the terrible tragedy that happened this last summer, she found herself looking into the town's history. Now she wondered if every new second she spent here was worth the risk. It was a shame. Most of the states in America's countryside seemed to have problems with confronting issues such as healthcare, especially of the mental health variety. Andrea was lucky she was taken care of by New York, but out here? Farmer's Hill was the only place worth visiting for quite a few miles. And some of the, uh... what do Americans call them? Good old boys? That's so weird. Apparently it was a nicer way of calling someone another American slang for the rural types: “redneck”. Well, she heard some of the “good old boys” around here weren't the type to visit the doctor. It might have been an exaggeration, but apparently they'd sooner splash liquor on an open wound than go the doctor, and if it were mental health, they just called them retards and slapped them around with paddles.

Rural America had some problems, but so did she and she wasn't about to presume the worst of anybody here without knowing their story first. She'd want the same to be done for her.

The muffled sound of a bell rang three times in succession, followed by a pause, and then repeating the sequence. It bounced through the hallways of Grand Ridge and reverberated through the walls of her dorm. The fire alarm? There was no announcement of a drill or test or anything. Either this was some kind of prank or this was the real deal. Then again, America... Andrea just sighed. It didn't help ease her mind that she was [i]just[/i] thinking about the poor management of mental healthcare in this country. 

“Attention fire brigade,” and intercom spoke calmly through the speakers, “sprinkler code three-one-one has sounded. Repeating: attention fire brigade, sprinkler code three-one-one has sounded. Students and personnel, calmly follow evacuation procedure to the nearest safe location.”

[i]'Please don't let this be the day that I die.'[/i] Andrea thought to herself. She didn't hear any fireworks or anything going off from where she was, and there wasn't any sound of screaming college students either. That was promising. She looked at herself up and down. Perhaps there was once a day that she would've asked herself, “Am I really going to go out like this?” Even after the breakfast, the jogging, the shower, she ended up moving back into her comfy, sky-blue pajamas with a bunch of little cartoon-looking sheep on it. Her feet were wrapped up in bunny slippers like she was some cliché on a television show, and her blonde hair was still slightly wet from her shower and was messily put up in a bun – and was in dire need of a thorough brushing - but it didn't bother her self-image too much. Something like this? It was inconsequential. She was seen in far, [i]far[/i] worse, but more importantly, she felt [i]comfortable[/i]. She wasn't going to let today bring her down. After all, today was one of her favorite days of the week: [i]rehearsal day.[/i]

With that, she went to her desk and withdrew a book, [i]Ready to Fall[/i] by Marcella Pixley, from one of the drawers and topped off her tall thermos with coffee, and shuffled her way out the door, following the flow of people towards the nearest evacuation zone.

[hr]

The drive with Dexter went relatively... uneventfully. Britney was wondering if she should bring up what happened in the camp with him - but, maybe another time? She didn't want to drop a whole lot on him out of the blue, so she just kept the conversation light. Like discussing how good his new vehicle was! It wasn't long until they came up on Grand Ridge - Farmer Hill is only so large, and one can reasonably get from one point to another on foot - aaaaaaaaaaand... everyone was flocking outside because of the fire arm. Britney's rather bright smile contorted downwards as her eyes drooped a little. [i]It's gonna be one of those days, ain't it?[/i] She asked herself with a deep sigh as the vehicle came to a stop. She had, unfortunately, missed what prompted the fire alarm - but she hoped that it was just some stupid highschool prank so she can go to her damn classes. Britney shook her head as she stepped out the car - might as well stick around, and if classes are cancelled, the Sucre isn't that far away. She decided to take a look around, trying to find somebody that she recognized so she could ask what happened. 

What definitely caught her eye was a rather tall, blonde haired girl that she had sort of recognized at first glance. Turning her head and giving her a good look made her realize that it was Andrea - one of the transfer students that she had befriended - and immediately honed in on her. Slowly but shortly, Britney tried to make her way through the crowd as she followed her, and once she closed the distance, she greeted, "Andrea!" She cheerfully said, "Do you know what's going on?"

Andrea was currently in the process of figuring out how to drink coffee and be nose deep in a book at the time as she slowly shuffled along with the crowd, which was quite frankly an awkward and embarassing time to be caught by one of the friends she's made here. With a mouthful of coffee, she looked doe-eyed with surprise to see Britney, and held up a finger to excuse herself as she swallowed it all down. "Cześć!" She cried back to her with her Polish accent. "I'm sorry! Please forgive, well..." Britney merely laughed.

She made a gesture that went down her whole body, indicating her choice of clothes, her hair, lack of makeup, and so forth - then raised both hands in the air - the book and the coffee. She greeted Britney with a smile, "Fire alarm. I hear from some of the others that there were fireworks in a girl's bathroom. Hopefully not a sick white boy, yes?"

Britney couldn't help but laugh at that last comment much to her friend's satisfaction, but she was annoyed at the possibility that, yes, it could have been a stupid prank. Still, at least her classes won't get cancelled. "That joke made my day," Britney said as she realized that she may have caught Andrea a little off guard. "I'm just glad it's something harmless - it seems like we never catch a break here."

"Oh, yes..." Andrea agreed somberly, looking at the friendly little eyes of her slippers for a moment before looking back up into the eyes the much taller girl. She's been trying to dodge this conversation for a while now out of respect, but part of her also wanted to be able to reach out. The only way she saw that happening without coming off as too desperate or clingy was to get Britney to reach out as well. Finally, Andrea said, "I was actually reading about it again this morning. I can't imagine what that must have been like."

"For some..." Britney trailed off as she talked about it, "... It was worse than others. I was there, but I didn't get to see the worst of it..." She shook her head as she wondered if there was a little more she could had done to stop that senseless death.

Andrea looked carefully at Britney, but otherwise didn't say anything. She took in what she could in the moment - the sound of her voice, how it softened and slightly trembled, the fidgeting in her fingers and the blankness in her eyes as it seemed like she was revisiting the scene. It was a look that she had seen far too often in the mirror, so she knew that there was nothing anyone could really say to make it better - there [i]wasn't[/i] any making it better. The truth was that it was one sad day in the Hill's long history of travesties; not that she would ever say anything like that to her, she had no intention of belittling her trauma. Only that there were a lot more people in this town who would understand how she felt. There was a lot of potential for a [i]huge[/i] support group, larger than even what the college had to offer, but only if more people were willing to open up. 

"The college has counselors," Andrea meekly suggested, "have you tried talking to them? Maybe a support group?"

"I talked with the counsellers," Britney admitted, "But, I don't think they really understand...." Her voice dropped as she shrugged, avoiding eye contact. How in the world would Britney explain the dreams that she has been having? And how they seem less like dreams, and more like seeing. She shook her head.

"... But, a support group?" Britney almost smiled at that idea, "That sounds like an incredible idea..." Especially since she wanted to test something among the survivors... if she thinks what did happen, happened then it was only going to get worse from here and they needed to stick together.

"I'm just lost how I'm going to get everyone together," Britney sighed, "Especially how... should I just say divided the group is."

"Myślę, że... there's more people feeling just as scared and confused than you might realize." Andrea reassured, remembering the days she spent in the care centers in New York. "Will it be easy?"

Andrea answered her own question with a shrug, but then continued, "but maybe the group will bring everyone together. Just don't tell them the people they don't like is going. Maybe the fact they see them there is... uh... ah, głupek... makes them empathy."

The polish girl made an awkward and frustrated grimace as the verb-case for the word managed to escape her, though apparently fully aware that whatever it was she just said sounded pretty stupid.

Britney thought what she just said sounded pretty stupid... but she got the gist of it. She understood what she meant. Whether or not Andrea realized it, but Britney had a lot of power. Merely through her insane amount of connections to the people of Farmer Hill - from Grand Ridge and beyond. Even if a few people didn't care for her, they couldn't help but listen when she spoke.

"I think I can pull a few strings to get as many people in the group as possible," Britney said, "But... I still think I could use a little help organizing everything and... perhaps you could be that help?"

"Sure!" Andrea happliy agreed with a smile. Then her expression on her face began to look a little more embarassed and subdued, "Actually, I, ah... well, nevermind that. It's very easy. We can just talk with the counselors and schedule a date. A roll with butter!"

Andrea's metaphor went over Britney's head, but she still understood the main point. She could only help but smile at Andrea's embarassment, "I'll get started..." She looked at the crowd and saw them going back into school. "Looks like the coast is clear... but we can always afford to make a stop by the counsellor's office - but...." There was something else on her mind, though she just shrugged her shoulders. "... Uh, nevermind, let's go." She gestured for Andrea to come along.

"Empathetic!" Andrea muttered to herself as she trailed behind Britney. "The word was empathetic! Psia krew... "