A boy sat at the near the window, whatching the trees dance with the wind, not caring for the meaningless drivel that had been spouted by a person who was meant to be teaching him. The boy did not care for such things. Sometimes he felt a bit like the leaves of those trees, moved by the people, and the the things that happened around him, but still indifferent and without a care in the world.
His hair was messy, and a little unkempt, and two loose curtains framed his eyes quite nicely - or at least he thought so. He wasn't too short, but he, or anyone else for that matter, had not described him as tall since he was around thirteen. The light and shadows played on his face, illuminating only him in the dim classroom, which had the unfortunate effect of drawing attention to his lack of focus. In the back of his mind, he felt like there was something that needed his attention, but he tried to ignore it, at least he was trying to ignore, until a familiar name cut through the veil of content he had surrounded himself in, starting him from his waking slumber.
"August Elin!"
He was startled by the misplacement of his full name, doubtful as towards what had warranted sucha stern reaction from the annoyed face that stared at him from across the classroom.
"Must you make me repeat myself a fourth time? Pay attention!"
That had quickly put his doubts to rest.
August tried his hardest to remember where he was and what he was doing, but once again the increasingly irate voice reminded him in a chiding tone that he had only managed to struggle through a third of his history class before losing himself to distraction.
He wondered if it could even be called history if it was so recent, but he could not deny its importance. After all, over the past few years, humanity had been tempered like steel, the most broken of its members transfiguring into harrowing abominations, while the best ascended into a state above their fellow man, shining ever brighter and brighter. He often fantasised about receiving a blessing himself, but he realised that those were reserved only for those who were exceptional, the cream of the crop, the shining stars of each generation, and he certainly did not fit that description.
The world had relinquished alot of its land to the Cursed, and annoyingly most of that land constituted large cities. The Blessed had only managing to push them back after fourty long years of arduous sacrifice. Yet for all of the efforts made, rifts in the sky refused to close, poisoning the world and cursing those around them with their insidious whispers. Prominent scientists theorised that they were born from negative emotions. Once the government had gotten a grasp on the root of the Curse - the broken people, the losers in the vast game that was life, they soon started seperating those who fit the description.
In fact, not all those who were Cursed were irredeemable, It was only those who gave in to their vices who began to transform into inhuman abominations, in fact some even managed to return to society, albeit under heavy monitoring. In fact, his parents were once such people, both carriers of a curse, however they had not returned, and he had long accepted the fact that they were likely never to do so.
He had once harboured hateful thoughts towards the people, the government, and even his parents that had forced him to grow up alone, raised in a state institution, but he knew better than to let his hatred take root and flourish into a bloodied blossom. After all, many suspected the first of the Cursed to have been born of hatred.
His internal musings were soon put to an abrupt stop, as he heard a strange, inhuman sound from just below his window, very much like the sound of someone cracking their knuckles, but amplified many times over.