Math IA

-Chapter One- There is this uncanny moment in life when you realise that you have no idea what you want. It takes you aback – the realisation that you’ve been chasing something which you can’t identify. It doesn’t take long to learn this, if you have the patience and observance. It takes the crimes of others to remember the kindnesses. Our story begins on a muggy evening, the legion behind the lone figure having inspired the courage to instigate the ensuing chaos. The ruinous building plays home to a motley crew of captives. No soul watches over the graveyard of memories tonight, besides a lonely toddler’s shoe dejectedly abandoned on the side of the road. The sun is memorialised by the suffocating air. It smells of hunger; an insatiable glutton reaching for the crumbs of relevance at the bottom of the biscuit jar. Cicadas sing in symphony as the Earth shifts and whispers. All is calm, and then it isn’t. In the distance a soft rumbling escalates as a vehicle sprints down a rural street. The dim streetlights fleetingly grace its polished yellow and black stripes. The pristine Camaro slows and swings into a desolate parking lot, a screech of blinding yellow coming to a deliberate halt directly between two parking lots. The driver nods in satisfaction, pleased with their slight rebellion. Even under the 2am sky, the vast unknown surrounding them in all directions - they are unwavering in their plan. A lithe figure emerges from the Camaro, straightening up to their looming height. Their masculine frame is confident – almost too cocky to be genuine. With a buzz from their back pocket a sly-smirk creeps across their face. The lanky man fumbles in his excitement, reaching into his back pocket to brandish a phone. The white glow illuminates his chiselled face, and if anyone were watching they might describe it as eerie. His ego inflates - ‘_mich.masc_ has tagged you in a photo’ and deflates.